| Central - GLA |
| Neville | ’s no losin this game o tug- |
| Central - GLA |
| Neville | wis the apple o ma eye. He wi |
| Central - GLA |
on’s gettin tae me. Ma dug, | Neville | , took a turn fur the worst ef |
| Central - SEC |
n aboot this yin. Then again, | Neville | Chamberlain probably said the |
| Central - GLA |
hound and ma wee fluffy son, | Neville | ! |
| Central - GLA |
fur aw his tricks and licks, | Neville | could dae nae wrang in ma eye |
| Central - GLA |
are, richt next tae the bins, | Neville | ’s sticks. Ah slowly walk ow |
| Central - GLA |
look across the empty table. | Neville | used tae love eyeballin me as |
| Central - GLA |
If this dug is anyhin like ma | Neville | , he’s jist hangry. Ah walk |
| Central - GLA |
Ah’m jist missin wee | Neville | the day. Council says ah cann |
| Central - GLA |
rift tae the gairden. A few o | Neville | ’s big sticks must be still |
| Doric - DOR | y on. Regardless of who he is | Neville | spoke the truth |
| Central - GLA |
t fae under the couch. It’s | Neville | ’s favourite toy: a wee yell |
| Central - GLA |
en gatherin dust. Ah pull oot | Neville | ’s reid, polka-dot bowl, whi |