See Oor Rab



See Oor Rab

He’s a psychopath

He might seem mean

But he’s a damn good laugh

He’s no that bright

in fact, he’s fukkin daft

But, see Oor Rab

He’s a psychopath


He was thrown out of school when he was five years old

‘Cos he never, ever, ever, ever did what he was told

He wasn’t all bad

He was a nice wee bloke

But you see, he killed the teacher as a practical joke


Now it wasn’t as if Wee Rab had meant it

Sure, he made a letter-bomb 

Sure, he sent it

How was he to know the injuries would be fatal

When it comes to intelligence

Oor Rab’s pre-natal

He was only a kid

He only done it for a laugh

See Oor Rab

He’s a psychopath


He once caught Santa, and nailed him to the flerr

Shaved his beard aff, and cut aff all his hair

Covered him in Christmas lights and threw him in the bath

See Oor Rab

He’s a total psychopath


He heard about Van Gogh cutting off his ear

To send it to his girlfriend, to prove he was sincere

So, to show he was a good boy

Just like any other

He cut ten people’s ears off

And sent them to his mother

She was so embarrassed at her Robert’s social gaffe

She said: “See Our Robert / He’s a fucking psychopath!”


He wants to be a terrorist

Or join the SAS

He just loved that guy in “Psycho”

Who wore his mother’s dress

He’s learning martial arts

So he doesn’t need a gun

‘Cos: “Shooting people’s evil!”

And Rab just kills for fun


You’ll recognise him easily

Coming in your pub

His knuckles scrape the ground

And he’s carrying a club


Starting to perspire

And if you disagree, he says:



His repartee would kill you

‘Cos he’s really so sincere

With a razor-sharp wit,

That makes you smile from ear-to-ear

He’ll leave you in stitches

Just dying

For a laugh

‘Cos see Oor Rab

He’s a fukkin psychopath


But everybody loves him

Scared to lose him as a friend

Like a shite in a toilet bowl

He’s totally ‘round-the-bend’

He hasn’t got a conscience

Or the slightest inhibition

So, it’s fairly safe to say

He’d make a brilliant politician

If Rab was Oor Prime Minister,

The entire Armed Forces

Could sell off all their tanks and planes,

Their ships, and jeeps, and horses

Our military budget could be quickly cut in half

He’s the Ultimate Deterrent

Is Rab the psychopath


Now … He’s not that good at reading,

And he’s even worse at writing

He’s got an honorary degree

A Phd in Street-Fighting

His wife and kids are terrified

To see him in the doorway

Because a ‘belt-in-the-mouth’

Is Rab’s idea of foreplay

The only things he talks about are

Football, Sex, and Drink

When it comes to evolution

Oor Rab’s the Missing Link


Half-man, and half-monkey

Half-pissed, and aff-his-heid

There’s only two things Rab respects:

Violence and Greed

But when you see him on the TV

You’ve really got to laugh

And pray to god you never meet

In darkened lane, or city street

He’ll leave your shoes

And steal your feet

You’re far too soft

You can’t compete

You’re just his type

You’re ‘easy-meat’

‘Cos life to him is never sweet

He’ll always get the last, last, last, ‘last-laugh’

‘Cos, see Oor Rab


He’s a Fukkin Moron.