Not such a great age these days:

Caught suddenly by ill health,

But by then he'd made his millions

And I know he'd enjoyed his wealth.

 

Sandy Mackinnon received a Haggis

Posted from his dad and mum.

He said that he would share it

With me and the rest of his chums.

We shoved it in the Baby Burco boiler

Along with a load of mucky socks

And Mackinnon said it would be ready

Just about by twenty two of the clock.

 

We'd no neaps or taties 

Or anything like that

But Sandy said we could eat it

Without such stuff as that.

He sliced off the top,

Declared it ready and soon

It was passed from hand to hand

And each dug in with a spoon.

 

He produced a single malt,

Half a bottle or so,

To wash down that haggis and

Produce a pleasantly warm glow.

I'd last seen him

Some two years before

On a business trip

To the auld country's shore

 

In the intervening years he'd  not

Really been much of a friend;

But the ale and the craic

Healed things in the end.

We passed some pleasant hours

Reminiscing and supping beer 

The atmosphere being one

Generally of good cheer.

And as the evening flowed 

To approaching twenty two o'clock

We drank an old times toast to that

Haggis we'd boiled with the socks.

Sandy Mac died in Thailand

Having made his fortune there

That very year he'd been listed as

Scotland's newest millionaire .

 

He rests now in Dunoon because 

 No matter where he roamed

There and Bonnie Scotland were

Those places he called home