Stan
My tea's gone cold I'm wondering why I,
Left Walsall at all,
They couldn't get Martin O'Neill,
And prob'ly not even Alan Ball.
Don't know what to do with these bibs and cones,
but your picture on my wall
It reminds me, that it's not so bad,it's not so bad...
Dear Sir Bobby, I wrote you but you ain't callin,
I left me mobile number and even me Da's number in Dundalk at the bottom,
You see I need new cones for the training and the FAI say I can't have 'em,
Say I spent too much on sun cream for a training trip to Navan,
Its just that in Orlando against them Mexicans it was scorchin',
But anyways, feck it, what's been up? Man how's Elsie?
I need your help though, this managerial lark ain't healthy,
See my best player's Duffer and he ain't playin' well for Chelsea
And I don't have Keano,
Well I have one but can't keep him outta Lillie's Bordello,
And John O'Shea ain't been the same since Roy dissed him,
I know you probably hear this every day, but I'm your greatest fan,
I even read about you as a dashing forward at Fulham,
I got pictures of you with Brylcreem on from an old pack of Capstan,
You managed PSV, Barca and England too - you da man!
Anyways, I hope you get this man, hit me back,
just to chat tactics, truly yours, your biggest fan
This is Stan.
My tea's gone cold I'm wondering why I
Left Walsall at all,
They couldn't get Martin O'Neill,
And prob'ly not even Alan Ball.
Don't know what to do with these bibs and cones,
but your picture on my wall
It reminds me, that it's not so bad,
it's not so bad...
Dear Sir Bobby, you ain't called or wrote, I hope you have a chance
That's right I forgot - its Snowball night at the Bingo and then there's the pensioners dance,
But I really need your help man, I'll owe ya,
Last week we lost at home to Macedonia,
Thats the pits, man, the FAI are ragin' - those cones I wanted, they said had to come outta my wages!
You're supposed to be helping me out but you must be too busy,
Probably having tea and cakes with the Archbishop of Canterbury,
Or whatever you old guys do - please just answer me -
I don't wanna end up like my homie McCarthy!
See you're just like me as such
You were only thirty-six when you took over at Ipswich
And you nearly won the league and won the FA and Uefa Cup,
Think the way you ain't answerin' me is fecked up.
All I wanted was a lousy letter or a call,
Keep turning up for training and don't know what to do with the ball,
I make them run laps round the field until they can't hack it,
I thought being a manager was just standing round looking grumpy in a padded jacket!
Least that's what big Jack used to do and look where it got him,
A national hero and the freedom of Dublin!
But its all tactics and set-pieces and media backlash,
Its all your fault that our defence is so slapdash!
So thanks for nothing old man, they're gonna eat me alive -
Too late - here comes Delaney with the P45.
My tea's gone cold I'm wondering why I
Left Walsall at all,
They couldn't get Martin O'Neill,
And prob'ly not even Alan Ball.
Don't know what to do with these bibs and cones,
but your picture on my wall
It reminds me, that it's not so bad,
it's not so bad...
Dear Stan, I meant to write you sooner, I apologise for my tardiness,
But try getting the top off a Bic biro with my arthritis,
Anyway you say you've had some problems with your team's marking and passes,
Hold on a minute - Elsie, bring me my glasses!
Can't read anything anymore without my specs,
Not that I'd want to read the paper these days- its all violence and sex,
Now where we, ah yes cones and training gear...
Cones? Reminds me of 99s and summers at Blackpool pier!
Me and Elsie courting, now what was the year?
'53 wasn't it? Ah the Matthews Cup Final!
We danced to Bing Crosby, only 2 shillings on vinyl.
These days its compact thingmayjigs and digital whatsits,
My grandson talks like Em and Em or what ever you call it..
You got some issues Stan, I think you need some counseling
I never managed Ipswich did I? Oh wait I'm remembering!
Arnold Muhren what a player! From Amsterdam I reckon
Like those tulips I planted at the end of the decking.
Do you have a garden Stan? You'd find it rewarding.
What was it you wanted? Ah yes some advice,
Well the secret of my success was not to worry, be nice!
I was listening to the sports news on my old wireless - made me sick,
What was it? Some chap just like you got sacked, that was it!
Was tactically inept, didn't know what to do,
Come to think about, his name was.. it was you
Damn!
© TSA 2006
Left Walsall at all,
They couldn't get Martin O'Neill,
And prob'ly not even Alan Ball.
Don't know what to do with these bibs and cones,
but your picture on my wall
It reminds me, that it's not so bad,it's not so bad...
Dear Sir Bobby, I wrote you but you ain't callin,
I left me mobile number and even me Da's number in Dundalk at the bottom,
You see I need new cones for the training and the FAI say I can't have 'em,
Say I spent too much on sun cream for a training trip to Navan,
Its just that in Orlando against them Mexicans it was scorchin',
But anyways, feck it, what's been up? Man how's Elsie?
I need your help though, this managerial lark ain't healthy,
See my best player's Duffer and he ain't playin' well for Chelsea
And I don't have Keano,
Well I have one but can't keep him outta Lillie's Bordello,
And John O'Shea ain't been the same since Roy dissed him,
I know you probably hear this every day, but I'm your greatest fan,
I even read about you as a dashing forward at Fulham,
I got pictures of you with Brylcreem on from an old pack of Capstan,
You managed PSV, Barca and England too - you da man!
Anyways, I hope you get this man, hit me back,
just to chat tactics, truly yours, your biggest fan
This is Stan.
My tea's gone cold I'm wondering why I
Left Walsall at all,
They couldn't get Martin O'Neill,
And prob'ly not even Alan Ball.
Don't know what to do with these bibs and cones,
but your picture on my wall
It reminds me, that it's not so bad,
it's not so bad...
Dear Sir Bobby, you ain't called or wrote, I hope you have a chance
That's right I forgot - its Snowball night at the Bingo and then there's the pensioners dance,
But I really need your help man, I'll owe ya,
Last week we lost at home to Macedonia,
Thats the pits, man, the FAI are ragin' - those cones I wanted, they said had to come outta my wages!
You're supposed to be helping me out but you must be too busy,
Probably having tea and cakes with the Archbishop of Canterbury,
Or whatever you old guys do - please just answer me -
I don't wanna end up like my homie McCarthy!
See you're just like me as such
You were only thirty-six when you took over at Ipswich
And you nearly won the league and won the FA and Uefa Cup,
Think the way you ain't answerin' me is fecked up.
All I wanted was a lousy letter or a call,
Keep turning up for training and don't know what to do with the ball,
I make them run laps round the field until they can't hack it,
I thought being a manager was just standing round looking grumpy in a padded jacket!
Least that's what big Jack used to do and look where it got him,
A national hero and the freedom of Dublin!
But its all tactics and set-pieces and media backlash,
Its all your fault that our defence is so slapdash!
So thanks for nothing old man, they're gonna eat me alive -
Too late - here comes Delaney with the P45.
My tea's gone cold I'm wondering why I
Left Walsall at all,
They couldn't get Martin O'Neill,
And prob'ly not even Alan Ball.
Don't know what to do with these bibs and cones,
but your picture on my wall
It reminds me, that it's not so bad,
it's not so bad...
Dear Stan, I meant to write you sooner, I apologise for my tardiness,
But try getting the top off a Bic biro with my arthritis,
Anyway you say you've had some problems with your team's marking and passes,
Hold on a minute - Elsie, bring me my glasses!
Can't read anything anymore without my specs,
Not that I'd want to read the paper these days- its all violence and sex,
Now where we, ah yes cones and training gear...
Cones? Reminds me of 99s and summers at Blackpool pier!
Me and Elsie courting, now what was the year?
'53 wasn't it? Ah the Matthews Cup Final!
We danced to Bing Crosby, only 2 shillings on vinyl.
These days its compact thingmayjigs and digital whatsits,
My grandson talks like Em and Em or what ever you call it..
You got some issues Stan, I think you need some counseling
I never managed Ipswich did I? Oh wait I'm remembering!
Arnold Muhren what a player! From Amsterdam I reckon
Like those tulips I planted at the end of the decking.
Do you have a garden Stan? You'd find it rewarding.
What was it you wanted? Ah yes some advice,
Well the secret of my success was not to worry, be nice!
I was listening to the sports news on my old wireless - made me sick,
What was it? Some chap just like you got sacked, that was it!
Was tactically inept, didn't know what to do,
Come to think about, his name was.. it was you
Damn!
© TSA 2006
posted by Tommy77 at 4:29 p.m.
2 Comments:
ha ha, well done, very good
truly excellent well done, i reckon you should flog it off to gift grub for a few quid
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