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Fair play to the Superdrogs
For doubling ticket prices!
Who says the game’s gone to the dogs,
And football is in crisis?
At last, somebody’s understood
Why crowds are not extensive.
People think the product’s good,
So long as it’s expensive.
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The current prices are too low,
They’re something of a pittance.
Of course the crowds no longer show,
And queue to gain admittance.
Our football stars have brilliant skills,
They’re each worth many millions.
The joy that each of them instills
Outdoes the famed Brazilians.
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The people will come flocking in
To Drogheda this summer.
They mightn’t see the home team win,
Which might be quite a bummer.
And many people are irate
They’ve upped their profit margin,
But sure the football must be great
If that’s the price they’re chargin’.
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The thing about the working class –
They’re not exactly loaded.
Their wages, which are often crass,
Are very soon eroded.
So fair play to the Droggies’ board
For snubbing football’s masses
And turning beady eyes upon
The moneyed middle classes.
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Twenty five quid, and you get
To gasp at Dublin City.
Yes, sir! I’ll put myself in debt
[And I’m no Walter Mitty.]
But what is money when compared
To music from the heart?
What scheming miser ever dared
To place a worth on art?
Leave a comment on verse 6 0
So fair play to the Superdrogs
For doubling their admission.
No more plebs in wooden clogs,
As in the old tradition.
Football queues perhaps may get a
Little smidgeon shorter,
But you will doubtless gain a better
Class of a supporter.