Who's gunna muck with me?

- After the anonymous ranty Scots poem 'Wha Daur Meddle Wi' Me?'

(based on suggestions from @realnixwilliams, @johnnypurple, @mlledelicieuse and @matchtrick)

I rent my flat, just sayin,
Not mine, and it never will be,
Still, you raise the cost – I’m stayin,
And who’s gunna muck with me?
With my iPod shoved in my bag
My flimsy clear goggles to see
With coffee I’ll rage and parade,
And who’s gunna muck with me?
Who’s gunna muck with me?
Who’s gunna muck with me?
Dude, my name is Ryan-Punch,
Who’s gunna muck with me?

Metro arseclowns, think you’re keen,
Roll out your Myki decree;
I’ll touch off once in your dreams
And who’s gunna muck with me?
Flinders Street Station, it stank,
There’d better be coffee or tea,
Degraves is my mattress, my bank,
And who’s gunna muck with me?
Who’s gunna muck with me?
Who’s gunna muck with me?
Dude, my name is Ryan-Punch,
Who’s gunna muck with me?

When music streams with my crying,
Mansell sprouts up my family tree,
We’ll stick it to half-past trying -
They'll never mair meddle wi' me.
Keep it together til land,
Tram onwards, it’s rowdy, you’ll see,
My library props me to stand,
And who’s gunna muck with me?
Who’s gunna muck with me?
Who’s gunna muck with me?
Dude, my name is Ryan-Punch,
Who’s gunna muck with me?

The beanbag room is my den
The crack of a dvd,
I’m wielding librarian pen,
And who’s gunna muck with me?
At lunch I let Beck out to wail,
Pretend there was no Scientology,
Won’t count out the times I say FAIL,
Cos who’s gunna muck with me?
Who’s gunna muck with me?
Who’s gunna muck with me?
Dude, my name is Ryan-Punch,
Who’s gunna muck with me?

My peeps still keep up the tally,
They coffee me, spring my head free,
Round Parkville, Lot 6 and Tin Alley,
So who’s gunna muck with me?
Bus home for a sleepy bed shuffle
Soft hands sprout between hip and knee
Extremities, limbs all unruffled
And who’s gunna muck with me
Who’s gunna muck with me
Who’s gunna muck with me
Remember, my name is yours,
Who’s gunna muck with me?

___________________________________________

As mentioned, today's poem is my version of the excellently shouty Scots poem 'Wha Daur Meddle Wi' Me' (Also, I love how the website is called rampantscotland.com) My version is kind of a journey through my day, because I don't fight many English marauding invaders these days. I've attempted to mirror the rhyme scheme and structure of the original, though I've played about with things a bit, as you do.

Anyway, today we had suggestions from:

• @realnixwilliams: "HANDS AS GENITALS" (!)
• @johnnypurple: "goggles" (who also voted in favour of 'hands as genitals')
• @mlledelicieuse: "the thought came to me, that u should write a poem about Beck (at least I didn't say TT...)"
• @matchtrick: "Here's your next poetry challenge then, ARPster: http://www.rampantscotland.com/poetry/blpoems_daur.htm"

I think it's fitting that this poem involves shouting out your name at the end of each verse, as my initials, pronounced as a word, often end up as my nickname (my friend Tracy always starts phone calls with "Hey, Arp." Also when we pretended to be a hip-hop crew in the library (yes, it has happened, and we were way cooler than the Lady Gaga librarians thing), my rap name was MC Arp. Anyway. Blathering now.