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The drunk hogs the path where the public walks
Then hogs the air with his nonsense talk
His breath smells of ale
His eyes look stale 
This Scottish male
In a Scottish gale
Just gets wet
Along with his pet
His unkempt dog
As white as the fog
Feeds him a chip
Gives it some lip
He thinks he is hip 
And knows it all
That he's on the ball
Then staggers and falls
Can't walk but crawls 
On his all fours
He doesn't care
This Glasgow Laird
Who thinks his world isn't fair 
For tomorrow he will call into the bank
Take out some cash from the Governments tank
Then he can go back to the house
That will sell him more Guinness stout
And stand outside on the same old street
Where the cold will numb his directionless feet. 


Christmas shopping in Glasgow. 6 drunk men hogged the footpath in the cold rain. They didn't realise all the people who could get passed with getting soaked. 

Laird is a Scottish word, derived from "Lord". It is the owner of the property.

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