For Albion fans:

The cat sat on the mat

If Albeyun had a poet no doubt he would pen such as below

Why is it
Please do tell
We are so s_ _ t
And live in hell ?

Pulled on a baggies shirt
Felt all dirty inside
Carry the shame forever
Never a place to hide

Running down the touchline
Just feet from the crowd
I know this is Sandwell
As it is not very loud

Arsenal are red.
Chelsea are blue.
It was never a penalty,
but boo hoo hoo!

None of mine get past the filter

Its ok unc, not everyone has this natural ability to form poetry

Along came Kenny
Discarded the stagnant trash
Of which there were many
Made a living from being thrashed

Astute signings
A fatherly arm
alas some are still pining
Which is cause for alarm

Onward and upward
seperate the wheat from the chaff
Jesus, we still got Edwards
Thankfully Kenny knows he is naff

Dangerous Dave is on the way out, so cinci would yell,
But Kenny sees him as our new forward, or so I've heard tell.

In for a Penny
in for a pound
Squad is so much poorer
When Edwards is around

Nothing mustered
Nothing gained
He huffed and blustered
As the crowd complained

Token gestures here and there
But to our youth, he doth not compare
No club shows an interest which is a shame
While away his years, on our bench every game

We once had a guy named stale
With the players, he wasn't all that pally
over complicated the system
Despite having a cast with little wisdom

We panicked and got rid of 'im
Our season turned incredibly grim
Gala and juve are his quarry these days
We just have Oldham in cup replays

Its all water under the bridge
And anyway, he didn't speak the language
King Kenny is the saviour
So losing stale did us a favour

He talked a good game did our manager Stale
But the football was cráp, and his signings were pap
No one would pine if his name had been Carl

But his name wasn’t Carl it was Stale Solbakken
He hadn’t a clue what the hell he should do
And Morgan was quick to give him the sacken.

So a legend was born in the eyes of some runts
They are quick to defend Stale to the end
What a bunch of useless <cont. P94>

Mick was good, mick was great
Such a pity we sacked him too late
A great entertainer for the fan
Oh why didn't he have a master plan

It got ugly in the end
despite all the money we spent
Plies his trade in the champo now
still searching for that cash cow

Ireland came a sniffing
He was on it it like a rash
But they decided something was missing
And opted away from having micks mash

I knew I could entice you in tats.

This is like those rap wars only in poetry

You do many things to me Cinci but “entice” is not one of them

You can’t live with my rhymes boy
Go back to playing with your toys boy
Don’t blame me if you get burned
And you head gets turned
180 degrees I’ll spin you round
‘Cause this is the Shrewsbury Massive’s sound.

Entice you in is what I did
whilst the others went and hid
The sound from the Shrewsbury massive
All sounds a tad bit passive
your dealing with the big boys now
You've been owned, I'm taking my bow

......drops the mic to the floor and strides off stage.........

Don’t turn yo’ back Jack, you pathetic like a hack Jack
Your rhymes are joke, like you writ ‘em on coke
The Massive will destroy you, demean and disown you
You ain’t playing with boys bro, just ask your lady she knows bro

Is this a private contest or can anyone have a bash?

You worry me not with your negative jest
No barbed words can put me down
For I am Wolves through and through
And you are but a baggies clown.

You live in a world filled with wild thoughts
Of European football and other mad dreams
A fantasy land that will never be reached
Thanks to an owner who has his own schemes.

At Wolves we have no pie in the sky dreams
No false ambition to lead us astray
We know who we are and why we are here
We know where we’re going and we’ll get there one day.

We view our team with a realist eye
We know that boardroom dealings are underhand
But we support our team with a passion unbridled
A passion that poor baggies could never understand.