I dream in Scottish, of life in a place like this:
And in those dreams is a guy who looks remarkably like this:
married to a girl who shares my name; we're both called this,
Which, not surprisingly, he likes to pretend is short for this:
On Fridays, they meet here with friends
for a pint and some craic:
for a pint and some craic:
and open their door to the world on Saturday nights,
so girls get a chance to wear pretty dresses like this:
and plait their hair prettily, like this:
and so the men have a chance
to chat up pretty birds like this:
This is one party where Gaga pays due deference to pipes,
yet these high heeled monsters
still manage to make a dance floor.
Only to meet up later in hallways to giggle
Or gather handsomely in the kitchen to laugh by his side,
While she sneaks off to carry out naughty capers
while no one is looking (except for Flossie):
Oh, what dreams may come.
How lucky I am, to spend my nights
honoring friendships, like this:
And throwing shameless parties as
excuses to celebrate families like this:
While partnering in love the same as I do in real life.
May that love age in both life
and dreams and grow this distinguished
while staying forever fresh
and never losing its sense of humor.
In hopes that someday we may live in life
where we do in my dreams:
Alba Gu Bra
