Niccolo
02-11-2009, 03:46 AM
Nae Hair On’t by Robert Burns
Yestreen I wed a lady fair,
An ye wad believe me,
On her cunt there growes nae hair,
That’s the thing that grieves me.
It vexed me sair, it plagued me sair,
It put me in a passion,
To think that I haed wad a wife,
Whase cunt was oot o fashion.
What's everyone's preference? Nae hair on't? Or would you rather come upon a lass like Bess, of whom Rabbie says, "Between her lily white thies, she's biggit a magpie's nest?"
Yestreen I wed a lady fair,
An ye wad believe me,
On her cunt there growes nae hair,
That’s the thing that grieves me.
It vexed me sair, it plagued me sair,
It put me in a passion,
To think that I haed wad a wife,
Whase cunt was oot o fashion.
What's everyone's preference? Nae hair on't? Or would you rather come upon a lass like Bess, of whom Rabbie says, "Between her lily white thies, she's biggit a magpie's nest?"