sorry - still replying to Tractor boy. memo to self - concentrate... you get the points by default ....
see this is what happens when we get delirious watching our World- class players. - and I'm colourblind. It does get confusing when we are defending.
Bergkamp a Dutch oven, are you going to carry on posting poetry after Saturday?..... You seem to enjoy it, or maybe the macho boys on the gooner board will mock you?
its a bit of fun - makes a change from gloom and doom we Gunners whinge on about. It's bile, vitriol and HATE on the F1 forum - so even more escapism for me....
I am sure you can reply to RBF s work in kind, we are usually treated to at least 2 a week ....... Us carrot crunchers are less angry than most
As super says, we´re a friendly lot A plucky team, lead by a Scot, Yes, we´ve one too In the long queue Of bosses who found life not hot, Enough up there, beyond the wall That Hadrian built, still standing tall, His Scottish grit Was soon a hit Down here where we sing ´On the ball´, And talk of song, after all the days That Wenger´s been worthy of your praise, Fifteen years Deserves some cheers Had you thought of singing the `Marseillaise´, I´m sure he´d take it with a smile And hang around yet, for a while, Or is it planned To name a stand In his honour, it seems the style.
The Gunners into Anglia delve,they drive along the old A12, On Saturday they leave on time,intent on point stealing crime. But wait,just where will it end?Will Arsene drive them round the bend? It seems that may well be the case,as they arrive at the blue boy's base. Three points at Portman Road might seem,an easy thing,a Gunner's dream. But there's another forty miles to go,and a team not quite so full of woe. So come on Gunner's up the A140,to find a team that's much more sporty. To Carrow Road,now let's be 'avin yew!
Methinks you need a better map The directions you give are utter crap! The Gunners will drive up the A11 To collect 3 points that would be heaven! The Gunners will beat you at a canter But don't blame a binner for the banter!
In geographic terms of course,you're right, My directions would be utter S***e, But in poetry we have a thing, I guess the same when 'ere you sing, It's called a licence like when you drive, In this case to make the rhyming thrive. So if you will allow me some drift, Without a great colossal rift, If I wanted to pull a cheeky scam, I 'd argue they go via West Ham. Just so that Arsene can laugh and scoff, At a team that's headed to play off.
My blush on where I should aim, is solved by travelling on the train. You see I've no need for satnav and map, because I'd sit in comfort with a bap. So glancing at the fields of corn, I'll ponder on some lines of scorn, to treat all you eastern fans alike, while you trudge homeward on your bike. The lonely hovel, cottage or tent, is all you peasants can afford in rent. Now abuse I do not often scatter, so will not liken you to Blatter, for its said you are all related? and I do note you bear no hatred. You wear the yellow, green or blue, but you're all the same to us its true. You yokels are a fun group of buds, unlike our rivals the jumped up Spuds. The weekend draws near the kit is pressed, it'll end in tears- don't get depressed. For we go afar our aim is sure, we'll soon be in the great top four!
i really wish that i could rhyme but my attempts are tantamount to crime sorry, thats all i'm capable of! great thread though lads, really enjoyed it... ...even warky
T'is true that in the far flung east, We mistake a turnip for a feast, Our new found friends from the stinking Wen, Require a breast of free range hen. Unless with fragrant olives stuffed, Or some rare cheese it's not enough. From Islington they ride to Norfolk and back, And dwell in some multi-millioned shack. The bankers rub their hands in glee, And trouser some almighty fee. Us yokels live in canvas tents, Or squalid hovels with low rents. But when the toffs they come to call, At least we owe them sweet FA.
You try and make your level best, but we are better than the rest, our angels have joined in with God, but you guys the fields have trod. You hope and pray that you may win, but once again I say t'would be a sin, so City boys keep the faith and fun, we'll show you lads how we can run. the ball will float, dip and slide our talents on view shall not hide, But silence all the more to heed, you can but hope and plead. I think you'll get a bashing, so back to haytime and a thrashing!!
The more I read upon this thread With nothing done and far more said. The one thing that comes shining through Who has more time to waste? me or you?
Ah! but you see Master Denis We know this is football, not tennis, There´ll be no six-loves Or any kid gloves And it´s we who could just be a menace But I´m glad that you still feel so sure Let´s hope that your players concur, And they think they´ll breeze Through this one with ease I´d be feeling in much worse humour... ..if I thought we were favourites to win With that awful great banana skin, Just waiting on hand All ready to land In the Gunner´s path, so that they spin.
Bergkamp I must agree the budgies have my sympathy! For when they get beat It will go down a treat and the score will be more than three!
