The Scottish rocks of Ardoch shore
A well worn path that is no more
Russells’ parks are barren noo
Wae scarce a bull or an Ayrshire coo
Long years ago these totty parks
Were harvested wae weans sore backs
We humped the spuds up yon cliff stairs
Oor legs like lead we didnae care
The bath wis filled wae fine Kerrs Pinks
Ma Mither peeled them in the sink
Fur weeks on end oor dinner came
Mashed totties wae some different names
The auld coos’ park weans burned in Spring
The reek o’ smoke a wondrous thing
Aboot July in the suns warm glow
The pram wis packed tae the shore we’d go
We’d get a place and a fire goin
Pit up oor tent,shore tea wis flowin
Oor pots were filled frae the River Clyde
Kerrs Pinks were biled till saft inside
We’d eat them wae best Co-op ham
If that wis scarce we jist ate spam
The men wid drink the Clyde cooled beer
Then start tae sing awe full o’ cheer
We awe wid swim and splash in fun
Oor pure white skin soon burnt wi sun
Awe too soon it wis time tae go
he pram repacked the weans aglow
The pram wis hurled along the cliff stair road
We took in turns tae hurl the load
We struggled up the steep cliff stairs
The pram in turn we’d lift in pairs
At last we’d get tae the tap o’ the brae
And turn aroon,whit a sight tae see
Lookin west we smiled wi thanks
That God had made the tail o’ the bank
By John Coleman