Just like that

Fabio is pretty Super
Looks a bit like Tommy Cooper
Takes us down to Bloemfontein
To show Ze Germans
Once again.
Gives the boys a pint of beer
To calm their nerves and kill the fear
Brings on subs like Joey Cole
And Jermain Defoe to score the goal.

There’ll be no early Arrivederci
While Fabs is here.

This entry was posted in And She Laughed No More, She Stood There Laughing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

10 Responses to Just like that

  1. makemeadiva says:

    Spitting bars no less. Knock up a tune and you could be the next big ting in Rap.

  2. makemeadiva says:

    *next big ting whagwan

    I meant to say. I need a coffee.

  3. Stephen Foster says:

    I hope that’s not rap with the silent c.

  4. makemeadiva says:

    Music hides a multitude of sins. Listen to some of those badass mothers’ rhymes and they are well rubbish.

    Yours on the other hand could shape up into a real team anthem.

  5. Stephen Foster says:

    You are exciting me now; I’m going to send this on to The Mogul.

  6. OS says:

    Leave the poetry to George. That’s it.


  7. Stephen Foster says:

    You’re the first person to mention the word poetry.

    There was an Old Scrotey from Stoke
    Who was a perfidious bloke
    He wasn’t a German
    Or even a Kurt-an
    But Dresden was the name of his poke.

  8. OS says:

    From Norwich there was a gayer,
    A cheat as a billiards player
    When in Berlin he tries
    To pull the wool over OS’s eyes
    But he wasn’t too quick
    To pull away his stick
    And got caught in the act.

    And that’s a fact. 😉


  9. Chiffs says:

    All we need now is that poem about hamburgers. I think it’s called Just Passing Wind.

  10. Stephen Foster says:

    This is almost a slam.

    Rhymin’ !

Comments are closed.