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Wheesht! They telt me, wheesht the now, an dinnae mak a fuss
Ye dinnae spik the wiy we dae, ye’ll ne’er be wan ae us
Sort thon verbs oot fae the nouns, pit them where they aught tae be
So I upon ma tongue the silence hung an the wheesht hel ontae me
They telt me that tae chainge the world wis war ne’er tae be won
through ma ain choice a smoored ma voice an let the wheesht haud oan
Gin ye cannae thole the dark an the sky abuin ye’s black
Haud yer wheesht fur lang enough an The Wheesht will haud ye back
Ye hae a vyce ootwi yer gub if ye can jist believe it
There’s a poyum in yer heid the now that’s ayeways wantin scrievit
So scrieve till aw the ink gangs dry and yer haun burns lit thon sun
There’s time enough tae haud yer wheesht when aw the scrievin’s done
So dinnae fash aboot thon snash an aw the lies they tell
Jist haud oan tae where ye’re gaun an The Wheesht can haud itsel.