There was a thick player in London, Who was tackled and then stuck his nut in, he was sent away, from the field of play, and his team got a well deserved thumping.
There was a young man from West Norfolk, Who, day after day, would implore folk Please look at my verse And say it's not worse Than those coming from Denmark by our Canary bard RBF!
A guy from Weston-super-mare, assumed he could write with some flair, a Danish canary, said "Jesus, hail Mary", if that's his best shot, I despair!! <brace oneself for a crab limerick emoticon>
You know I can never resist it When my fellow Canaries risk it, And themselves verse one So PC, well done Although it might not take the biscuit For Barton´s a thing of the past Forget him, his ranting won´t last, A ludicrous thought To sue in a court Those refs who might give him a blast.
And Cromer, good morning to you How´s life up there with your fine view, From the Norfolk coast To Denmark, almost On a day when the sky´s royal blue.
Haha I thought of it when I couldn't sleep last night, I was too busy wondering how much of my fence would be strewn across the gardens of King's Lynn! Consider it "un homage" to our favourite poet, the always delightful RBF!
So what is it about the Danish That makes there writing so swish? Is it all the Ice cold beer Or all the eating of deer? I think Soccer is just taking the pish!
