Our Jocks,

who art north of the border,

Hallowed be thy Loch Ness monster.

Thy own Assembly has come,

but will full independence ever be done

in our homeland as it is in Eire.

Give us this day our daily porridge oats,

and forgive us for our bagpipes

as we forgive those who

wonder what's under our kilts.

Lead us not into Sassenachs,

but deliver us from numpties.

For thine is Hogmanay,

the malt whisky,

and the haggis,

forever tossing the caber.

Midges.