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Nae Hair On't


Yestreen I wed a lady fair, And ye wad believe me, On her cunt there grows nae hair, That's the thing that grieves me. It vexed me sair, it plagu'd me sair, It put me in a passion, To think that I had wad a wife, Whase cunt was out o' fashion.

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Gary Lewis

About this work

This is a poem by Robert Burns. It is read here by Gary Lewis.

Themes for this poem

sex marriage humour

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