Near sixty years an’ feelin’ great
Ma memories of ma garden gate
As pals we a’ wid staun ‘n wait
Tae see a car in motion.
They stood there in their driveways
But never passed ma way
An’ the only thing they hud tae dae
Wis pass by ma wee gate.
But we wid sit fur ‘oors oan end
An jist as well we a’ were friends
Fur nae caurs came aroon’ that bend
Way back in ’61.
They aye wid wash an’ clean them
Every Sunday they’d be gleamin’
An’ oor faces wid be beamin’
Cos they never ever moved.
Ma pals a’ said they’d get ane
Or maybe even buy a van
An’ drive tae places like Japan
Maybe that’s why I don’t drive!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem