Farewell To A Foe.
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His number came up
Plastic seats crashed
The hostile crowd
Slowly applauded and rose
Then with out a look back
Toward us fans or the field
Of some right blinding battles
Had it quickly away on his toes.
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In the interview after
Did I detect that he’ll miss us
Our banter, the Micheal, the stick
I know this sounds daft
But we’re sure gonna miss him
As our foe he was well up for it.
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Forget all the ifs and but’s,
Might have been’s.
The mistakes (and we’ve all made a few)
Man never made a mistake
Never made anything
While this red-man was really quite something
As he time and again often proved.
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