Newton’s Third Law
¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 or The Song of the Begrudgers
¶ 2
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For every silver lining, there’s an ominous black cloud,
For every ray of sun, a drop of rain,
For every strike on terror, there’s civilians killed or cowed,
With each ecstatic triumph, searing pain.
¶ 3
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For every decent ref, you’ll get another one who’s simple,
For each observant linesman, one who’s blind.
For every Mars bar eaten, you’ll produce a massive pimple,
For each exam, a never-ending grind.
¶ 4
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For every Tweetie-Pie, there is a nasty puddycat,
For every English penalty, a snigger,
And for every European win that Cork pull out the hat,
The size of Corkmen’s heads gets even bigger.
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