MANYURA MANYA

MANYURA MANYA

by

Matt McGinn

Wi manyura manya, wi manyura manya

Wi manyura, manyura, manyura manya

I have heard men complain o the jobs they are daein

When they're howking the coal and they’re digging the drain

But whatever they are, there is none that compar

With a man that’s oot shovelling manyura manya

Wi manyura manya, wi manyura manya

Wi manyura, manyura, manyura manya

The streets of the toon were all covered aroon

Wi stuff that was colourful, golden and broon

It was put there, of course, by a big Clydesdale horse

And his name was Manyura Manyura Manya

Wi manyura manya, wi manyura manya

Wi manyura, manyura, manyura manya

I followed its track wi a shovel and sack

And as often as no wi a pain in my back

It was all for the rent, and the beautiful scent

Of manyura, manyura, manyura manya

Wi manyura manya, wi manyura manya

Wi manyura, manyura, manyura manya

But I'm feelin gie sour for my job's taken oer

And everything noo is mechanical power

And the roses that grow, have no odour, oh no

Nae manyura, manyura, manyura manya

Wi manyura manya, wi manyura manya

Wi manyura, manyura, manyura manya