The Scotsman's Kilt (just a sample)

On that day, dampened with the rain dripping down his sullen face,
Came a dream, with striking blonde hair, wearin’ a fancy hooping dress.
She was a beauty; he beamed, curling his filthy, wildly gnarled beard.
Life had been sheep, before this winsome lass who all in sudden appeared.
Her dress, so fair, was enlarged by flairs and by hoops of metal and wire,
Not of the rugged hill he knew, she rolled down through mud and through mire.
His eyes they grew and curses they flew, as his legs did wildly flail,
To catch the lass, over jagged rocks and grass to sadly no avail.
Suddenly, there came at some surprise a brilliant, peculiar sky of blue.
The lord shined down upon his face, and as a bird on wing he flew.
Perhaps ‘twas his ‘tato sack kilt that slowed his risky flight and crash,
But down he fell to a boat from hell – one filled with disgusting trash.