Food For Thought.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Spare the odd thought for the punter
Stood out in the cold at the game
Who unless he’s proportioned a la Billy Bunter
Has all the elements attacking his frame.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 A Bovril at half-time might ward off the cold
Or them pies with the brown coloured jus,
Roasted peanuts me bruvver sold inside Loftus Road
Which I’m told is quite near Shepherds Bush.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Them hot-dogs (sic) ain’t really the answer
Truth is they’re usually lukewarm
Dodgy blokes selling `em` reminded me of chancers
In black market photo’s of long ago wars.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Old Trafford had Macari’s outside it
Where awesome fish and chip suppers were bought
Or that night up at Grimsby where we feasted on fish
That still makes me drool at the thought.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Or the time that I visited Florence
Where spit roasted boar was served near the ground
This makes a change from a napalmed black sausage
I thought as I watched it spin round.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 So spare the odd thought for the punter
Getting totally ripped off at the ground
I know the financial constraints these poor clubs are under
But a cuppa of rosy costing two pound?



A tea-bag and hot water £2:00. Milk and sugar are free, so help yourself. Sausage and chips £6:00 with free ketchup. Whatever’s next £5:00 for a match day programme?

Rant over.

Carefree….braised in Celery.

Go well, be lucky and keep smiling.



Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/food-for-thought-4/