THE HOLY POET
From Sally To Alex
'Enjoyment's' what was in his mind
'That's their fault', words so unkind
When chains were thrown ‘round Parkhead's doors.
His words in '94.
It seems fat Sally's turned a leaf
Today his words are 'Disbelief'
He was 'concerned about his Celtic friends'
He's only trying to make amends.
The boot's now changed from left to right
And the fat man got an awfy fright
He now knows fear and cannot cope
Does he think we're all dopes?
Some took reductions in their pay
Was that for goals they gave away
Three quarters back or so they say
- That's the type of game they play!
They're forever injured, out
They run around as if they've got gout
When we play them, it'll be a rout
Of that I have no doubt.
Let's face it you're no flowering shrubs
You love your drink and love your grub
Your current boss couldn't run a pub
Who's going to buy your club?
Sir Alex's name's been banded round
Is he the next man to be crowned?
The man you threw out from your ground
Now isn't that profound!
Did they take cuts knowing he'd be named?
If that's the case you should be ashamed
Whatever pride you had's now maimed
The weeds will now be tamed.
So when you go to bed tonight
Please say a prayer for Rangers' plight
The Whyte Knight came but wasn't right
Will Fergie re-unite? .
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