Enough to Make Thee Drink, Sam
¶ 1
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You seem a stalwart chap, Sam,
on that we’d be first to own,
the sort of bloke we’d meet at pub
and treat to a pint of brown.
¶ 2
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Sam, you’re as solid as Bolton
you’ve managed to renown;
your name, too, Sam Allardyce,
solid, nice, it’s yours, not a loan.
¶ 3
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Ah, but Sam, lad, I hear tell
you want to institute a ban
to stop your lads tippling,
down to every single man.
¶ 4
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No more ale, whisky, or gin;
all out, according to your plan
intended to assist the team to win.
It’s funny then how things ran
¶ 5
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in the FA Cup quarter bout,
with Arsenal: nondrinking
striker El Haj Diouf turfed out
for arguing a call ungiven,
¶ 6
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a penalty he cried, you see!
then the scuffle broke out,
their goalie struck by Dioufy
–Sam’s dream’s up the spout!
¶ 7
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Enough to make thee drink, Sam.
Bartender, make it drinks all round,
a pint of brown, a half of bitter, though
Freddie scored one, he missed a sitter!
¶ 8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 Christopher T. George
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