Leave a comment on verse 1 0
In noble times, in far east climes,
The galleons came to plunder.
For spice and tea they sailed the sea
To lands of jewelled wonder.
By force, by stealth, they sniffed out wealth
And massacred the poor,
The money laid ten times repaid,
A hundredfold, or more.
Leave a comment on verse 2 0
Back home, each hull, so sweetly full
Ensured a giant profit,
Though ‘twas not crew, oft black and blue
That benefitted off it.
The merchants grinned and blessed the wind
That brought their ships to port
And into banks with utmost thanks
The spoils of war were brought.
Leave a comment on verse 3 0
But now of course the market force
Of football reigns victorious.
No need for slaves or native graves,
Just shirts, pristine and glorious.
And chief execs remove their specs
And fondle bank accounts
When merchandise shoots through the skies
And far-east income mounts.
Leave a comment on verse 4 0
The trade winds now have turned somehow,
As football has discovered.
Downsurge in silk? Who cares? We’ll milk
This treasure now uncovered.
The millions that queue for our tat
Are now supremely vital
In our desire to soar e’en higher
And grab another title.