The Special Ones talking to Everton,
That’s straight from the proverbial mouth
So in London we’ve a managerial conundrum,
Passed over, and forgotten about.
We’d lumped ante-post on the title,
And next Champions League for a start
Now dumped like a bloke on his stag night
He’s broken our West London hearts.
We dreamed through the bad times of Jose
Pined he’d come back to the fold
He had unfinished business in London he’d say
Well Goodison ain’t Fulham Road?
A big club like ours needs charisma
With a massive ego to match at the wheel
Seems you don’t always get what you wish for
When fate sticks it’s hand in these deals?
How could it happen we’re Europa champions
Lauded through-out Europe we’re told
With the Champions League to tempt him at least,
Then how come his ardour turned cold?
I’ve blown all my dough on next seasons
Brief fore this summer has come
After spending that cash I want reasons
Why the Special One copped for the hump?
Here give us a minute me dog and bones ringing
I’ll return in a mo with more words
Er I’m back, humbly rescinding the slurs I’ve been flinging
Based on, what this deaf poet ears thought they heard.
Jose Mourinho was indeed talking to Everton
And in fluent Portugeuse I’m now told
Seems the Everton in question
Is a proud Portugeezer serves a blinding expresso
Just off West London’s famed Fulham Road!