There was a young man from Dumfries Who had sex with his ducks and geese He went too far with his budgerigar And his parrot phoned the police Come on join in its all doom and bloody gloom.
There once was invester called Paul He went too far with his haul The players weren’t fit, the manager shīt And now we’ve been left with fùck all
There once was a young man from Kent Whose dick was so horribly bent To save himself trouble He bent the thing double And instead of coming he went
There was once a man from Miami Who many people thought was a fanny He loved reinvesting But his personality was testing And his newspaper interviews got a Grammy
There was A PM who’s aTory Who always told a false Story The lies he told All came to unfold But all’s ok coz he’s sorry
There once was a man called Chien Lee, Who bought bought Nice OGC. He then bought Barnsley, Thun, Oostende, Nancy And now he hasn’t a f**king b**tard clue what to do with any of them other than drive them into the lovely personting ground and sh*t on all their w**king fans the cu*t…. There once was a man called Julian Broddle’s Perm, Who had severe f**king Tourette’s Syndrome He swore like a lovely person, and spoke out his ass But daft cu*t still got a ‘season pass’ B**tard!!!
Ian MacMillan often contacts me when he is running low on inspiration. I’ve had to block him in all honesty.
It was the last line that really got me. On the first one. The ability to get 21 words in to something so succinct hasn’t been seen since Daniel Stendel left Oakwell.
There was a dodgy bloke called Chien Lee Who led the charlatans PMG I'm sorry if it's blunt But fèck of you cun t Now take fat Paul with you and flee
It used to be "Iley out", In it's day that had a lot of clout, Until Chien came along, And everything went wrong, I think 14 points and maybe a trout.
A group who owned eighty percent, Turned out to be awfully bent, The fans thought they had billions, But three quarters of a million Was removed from the club and then spent. When the fans pressed the new CEO, He said with a shrug, "I don't know." He said, "I'll have to ask Paul, Cos he tells me fùck all, But the flatbreads are making some dough."
They closed the west stand for a laugh But turns out they made a big gaff The fans see right thru em And just want to boo em Cos all their decisions are naff
At Barnsley it’s all going wrong We’re all coming up with a song Yes we are in the sh.ite But try not to fight Or the protests won’t last very long … Paul Conway, Chien Lee and young Grace Are bound at some point to save face So off they might fuc.k If we have any luck Besides, Accrington Stanley is ace
The last time I saw Barnsley win, The Queen Mother was still drinking gin, JR Ewing was scheming, Reggie Perrin daydreaming, And Led Zeppelin were making a din.
Paul said "progress is my intention" But it seems beyond his comprehension He hired Markus Schopp, The charisma-less flop And thus f*cked our divisional retention
The recruitment plan was insightful But players with experience they were frightful 24 was the limit First team games, not a minute Was Conway doing this to be spiteful?
There was a young man from Nantucket Whose **** was so long he could suck it As he wiped his chin He said with a grin If my nose was a lovely person I could f*ck it