My dear Maestro, why do you protest! Grunty's dives are far better than the rest! A better cheater you will not see, He throws himself down for a cheap penalty! I warn the Gunners of their fate, And Grunty will be a figure of hate! I hope the game is fair and true, And the budgies end up in one big stew!
The day draws near don't make a fuss, I don't suggest you'll park the bus. But will your team at great endeavour, hold down our lads who are a treasure. We'll sprint and pass and head and bring, a few quick runs along the wing, and once or twice the ball to cross, the net will jerk and goalie toss, his gloves in air at his defensive loss. At last the fulltime match will stop, and much home support to strop, you see we triumph and run amok, our trip is over at Norfuck.
Maestro, if monsters there are They´re not of my creativity, I gave them the platform to star And to use their ability, We might have guessed with Warky here The emphasis would somewhat change, He´s still finding it hard to bear That we´re here and they´re out of range, So each to his own and all that I still know where I´d rather be, Previewing Arsenal, with a chat Than talking of Championship sprees. OTBC
is that an intended slight on my man''s 'Qualitteee' My words run true but stop I must, for a meal awaits that's fit to bust. then upon the screen I will need to glare, at Swedish chances - don't you just dare......
My verses now are close to the ends I wish the best to my six fingered friends, You will need it though as I can see A mauling but not a catastrophe! Your game on Saturday will be a defeat And Arsenal will be turning up the heat! The Budgie bubble well may burst, Their fans from Norfolk will fear the worst Don't worry though there's thin and thinner! This has all been written by a Binner!
'til Saturday on the morn, I'll rekindle fun and scorn. Twas good and sparkling wit, alas your players might be just ****.
Bergkamp my friend, or should I say foe? 'Twas not at you I had a go! But JWM, a poor, poor sinner Who has to endure life as a 'Binner'
Oh Dave I know its not your fault that you're so tight with your malt! You may feel like your top of the heap Yes watching Town does make me weep! Its hell I tell you thats for sure, Every game at Portman Road is a chore! But one day who knows my bad luck will halt And I will end up sipping your 10 year old malt!
JWM - you know I love you nearly as much as I love your wife - but nowhere near as much as I love and cherish my malt
she said I'd have to hurry up, and do a turn just like a tup. But we do have fun at Emirates, and shag the girls of all our mates.
The Gunners come from that part of town,where aesthetes do abound, Where discussion of the offside rules is idle banter meant for fools. Instead Arsene,with furrowed brow,talks of why and where and how. With Professarial high esteem,he pursues the intellectual dream. When Gunners make a simple pass,it's measured by Pythagoras. City,on the other hand,are a less sophisticated band. They work so hard to make a game,with tackles that are hardly tame. Arsenal,with fortunes on the rise,look forward to their next big prize. Three points they hope to steal away,come five to five on Saturday. If they don't it's not their fault,if their dreams come to a sudden Holt.
A city that´s built up of artisans With hands that are used to some grime, While not wishing to appear partisan I´d say would stand the test of time, And if that time should be this weekend For an hour or two just after noon, When Gunners get dropped in the deep end Well then, the Canary would croon, But Arsenal, stylish and polished Will be a toughish nut to crack, But don´t be entirely astonished If we produce a real crackerjack, Such is the way of our fine city When chances seem slim in most eyes, And folk are ready with their pity That we turn up with a surprise.
the lines you wrote compose an ode, however good you sound not on the road, the truth be told on Saturday after, just a shame we'll do the laughter. Your boys in blue might look the deal, but it's us who come to do a steal, You yearn for points in number three, but sad for you they'll be no glee. Another day another dawn they say, our stars in white and red have come to slay, the slightest hope the canaries sing, you oughta know its us who wear the bling. For with a feint and a dribble, we'll make you look like Officer Dibble. now down the wings to perform on stage, but your canaries lie dead within the cage. So try again just as you might, and I'll put your hopes to flight. But just for you I could be kinder, my lads will likely play a blinder.
Boys in blue????? We play in green and yellow! It'll be a walkover for us if you don't know where to come to!
