Enjoy or Ignore - just me having a bit of fun with some instantly recognisable City characters, past and present
There once was a keeper from Oz
No Wizard, I´m afraid, that´s because,
When the ball went right
Left went his flight
That fumbling keeper from Oz
There was a small person from Wales
Who rejoiced with a ´head over tails´,
Whenever he scored
We never got bored
Of watching that person from Wales
There once was a young man, so tall
He sometimes lost sight of the ball,
When there at his feet
They´d cry out, " Hey Pete!
Just how did you end up so tall?"
There was a quick winger from Notts
Who caused quite a few to see spots,
As he passed them by
He´d often say, " Hi! "
That fleet-footed winger from Notts
There once was a good man from Eire
Whose manager just dealt in lire,
But he knew his worth
Which filled him with mirth
That forgotten, but good man from Eire
There was a hotshot up from Cumberland
Not content just to snooze there in slumberland,
He left with the hoards
And fetched up on the Broads
That very hot, hotshot, from Cumberland
There was a young lad near Toronto
Whose talent was spotted real pronto,
" You´d better be off "
Said his Dad with a cough
As he waved to the lad from Toronto
There once was a Welshman from Bangor
Who hardly ever resorted to anger,
And despite the scowl
From his toothless jowl
You´ll find no-one kinder, from Bangor.
There once was a keeper from Oz
No Wizard, I´m afraid, that´s because,
When the ball went right
Left went his flight
That fumbling keeper from Oz
There was a small person from Wales
Who rejoiced with a ´head over tails´,
Whenever he scored
We never got bored
Of watching that person from Wales
There once was a young man, so tall
He sometimes lost sight of the ball,
When there at his feet
They´d cry out, " Hey Pete!
Just how did you end up so tall?"
There was a quick winger from Notts
Who caused quite a few to see spots,
As he passed them by
He´d often say, " Hi! "
That fleet-footed winger from Notts
There once was a good man from Eire
Whose manager just dealt in lire,
But he knew his worth
Which filled him with mirth
That forgotten, but good man from Eire
There was a hotshot up from Cumberland
Not content just to snooze there in slumberland,
He left with the hoards
And fetched up on the Broads
That very hot, hotshot, from Cumberland
There was a young lad near Toronto
Whose talent was spotted real pronto,
" You´d better be off "
Said his Dad with a cough
As he waved to the lad from Toronto
There once was a Welshman from Bangor
Who hardly ever resorted to anger,
And despite the scowl
From his toothless jowl
You´ll find no-one kinder, from Bangor.
although even the missus had a chuckle