RBF, You are a precious flower Bringing wonder to our lives The poems take our minds off Warky Hitting on our wives Dave like scotch Maestro blows And supers loves a tweet Thankfully the town are skint And play with 2 left feet Arsene`s Gunners are too good How can we keep them out? Ipswich town Mod Yorkshire pud His curse spells Binners drought We will score on Saturday How many? i don`t know For every time we cross the line You`re guaranteed a show.............................................
I must say, how nice it is to see, The Gunners fans, joining in with the poetry. From these verses, you will surmise, That it is RBF the bard, we idolise. Instead of 1 point this weekend, watch the canaries try for all three.
We will make the trip to Nor-itch, the boys to trot out on their pitch, Its sure to be a game and give a thrill, but we all know it will end 3 nil. Try as they might the locals in retreat , we will give them all a football treat. We head, we cross we make the pass, the visitors will shout - 'its up the Arse' So once again we ask for more, the progress up the league top 4.
I agree with you, Bergkamp was class But also a pain in the ankle, As an Inter man He ruined our plan When we made our one European pass But Persie seems well on the way To emulating that Dutchman´s play, As captain van P It seems to me That he´s growing with every fray We´ll do what we can when we meet To shackle him with arms and feet, With or without luck To break our home duck This game should be still quite a treat. Still go for a 2-2 or a narrow 1 goal defeat (either way )
You place the words on line by line, it all flows out to form a rhyme, I fear the upbeat tone you chime, will likely end in a large whine. the style you play has much to laud, but now you're up against the Gunners sword. Some players you have wisely bought, but we have guys most others sought. The time has come the scheduled test, now play the game and give your best, try and try as well you might, but we will put your birds to flight.
It could be so But players who grow When put onto a larger stage, Aren´t always those who Some expected to And not just those with a large wage, And the more one pays The more pressure weighs And expectancy follows too, Even those with class Sometimes must call ´pass´ When up against an opposing crew.
I love it when you get replies in kind, RBF, it shows just how good your poetry is! Maestro - get your daughter to compose yours!
Warky's here to spread some glee, As we beat the Gunners easily! Now that we've shown you how it's done Go on Budgies you have some fun! Poor old Cesc a moan he had Its Rugby! Its Rugby! he went quite mad! He couldn't stand losing against the Town How we all laughed at the jumped up clown!
A joke you make of him afar the Gunners side he was the star. While he gave us all some hope, at times he did appear a dope. Now that in foreign lands he sits, at least our team is not in bits. His magic was there for all to see, but given the chance from us did flee. Our new boys have a lot to learn, but now we no longer yearn. For come the sat lunchtime score, our boys will hear us as we roar. You may talk big, and strut and boast, but come the weekend you'll be just toast.
My dear Bergkamp, I do not mock, The loss of the Spainard from your flock! I'm sure you've found a spainard better, The guy from Everton, they call Arteta! I'm sure in time this player will shine, Although for Cesc you still pine! Wishing you the best this season, And I hope one day you will have the reason To play us Townies in the Prem And we will beat you once again!
So in the Prem you wish and hope, but when your lads must visit the smoke, your kits of blue and white to wear, with no defence to match and glare, we'll give you a bashing, like your cornfields get a thrashing. The Tractor boys might play like girls, while rivals Norwich try some twirls. Talk is cheap and you act so big, just wait until we stick your pig. I've had some fun and like the banter, but sad for you we'd win at a canter. I'd like to think all teams had a poet, but very few can drink the Moet. this season we have bought and sold, our dead wood no longer to catch a cold, for sat down on the bench we have some skill, instead of guys who cannot pay the bill. We no longer have to bleat and moan, the worst offenders out on loan. With youngsters plus the tried and tested, Arsenal now will not be bested.
My dear Bergkamp, I like your style, I just hope you will reflect a while Because your not the team you were, The days of the invincibles is just a blur! I say this though, and I'm not bluffing I reckon you'll give these Budgies a stuffing!
We cannot go the year without a loss, the other teams use a wealthy boss, our owners have a billion quid tis true, but keep it all with sticky glue. So with a purse and on a budget, our man's a tight wad and a fudge it. He buys too late and keeps the score, while we chant and sing 'more please more' We use assortment for fullbacks, and that just rankles with the hacks, for just like us they cannot settle, we need to see a line with metal. Wenger tries and swaps like crazy, but the side he picks can be quite hazy. We guess and scratch we know we oughta, but the Norwich boys like lambs we'll slaughter.
A stuffing might well be on the cards, But we'll still be singing, us canary die hards. On Saturday, whether we win, lose or draw, A footballing feast will be on show, that's for sure. Here's hoping the ref doesn't spoil it with a flurry of cards
Another 3 points and you're in the hunt! Just beware of a player we call Grunt! Don't touch him anywhere near the box He falls too easily even over his socks! You will definately have the beating, Even despite all Grunt's diving and cheating!
you judge my lines and verse I try, but reading that has made me cry, but listen soft you'll lean on barrow, to read the tale of defeat at Carrow.
JWM, jealousy is such a horrible thing, You just wish you had a player like Grant....our king. When he's in full flow, with the ball at his feet, It's something to behold. Quite a treat.
