Dream I had last night.

In my dining room, late at night, during what could have been a party, forty people from two Scottish clans- in the middle of a spat- are eating hard corn-pudding and stew from mugs. Oddly fitting somehow because they where from the reign of James V of Scotland. In any case, there was evidently a letting go of old rivalries, for everyone was singing a rather vaguer song to the tune of “I was walking through the park one day:”

“I stayed out too late,
Now, I got no pants,
And me willies got the chivvies’;
And me wife’s going to kill me,
So I can’t go home.
But that’s all right
‘Cause, we’re going to the brothel.
‘Cause, we’re going to the brothel.

The party had go on for some time, and I was vary into it, dancing from foot to foot. Sitting at the head of the table was a man flirting with what appeared to be a bar wench, when leaning back suddenly he shouted:
“Wait, wait, now I’ve heard a cord from everyone here but you,” He looking strait at me and emphasizing the last word rather accusingly.
I stopped dancing from foot to foot, and said, “well, it has all been swell, and I don’t think I can match it, but I would like to try… feel free to go on till I have something worthy to share.”
“That’s perfectly normal and right; and don’t let your neighbor lie to you.”
I woke up when I realized that nothing I came up with rimed or even sounded right.