Silent Whispers. Poem by THE HOLY POET

We'll miss you Glasgow Rangers and stories we will tell
Of how Celtic came from Heaven and you lot came from Hell
And when they pull down Ibrox and I think it's going to come
It's the taxman's way of saying, you should have done your sums.
As brick by brick it crumbles and your iron gates crash down
Just think of our St Fergus and how he turned us 'round
When every brick has fallen and you see there's nothing left
You'll hear the taxman whisper, that's the price you pay for theft.