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Spellbound

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 McFaustus wailed as he left th’ ground
Frustrated an’ forlorn,
“M’ team is diabolical!
Wish I was niver born..”
A fiendish figure followin’ Faust
Whispered in his ear,
“Your football woes can all be cured,
There is naught to fear…

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Sell your soul to Satan
And the team will soon succeed,
They will win the Scottish Cup,
Plus the Premier League..
Write out a binding contract
To let the Devil have your soul..”
McFaustus thought, “It’s worth a try
T’ help m’ team achieve their goal…”

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 So he put pen t’ paper,
Then below he signed his name,
But McFaustus made a wee mistake,
T’ his eternal shame..
Th’ laughin’ stock o’ th’ town,
Subjec’ t’ ridicule an banter,
All because he couldna spell..
An sold his soul t’ Santa!!!

1

Notes

Ho Ho Ho!

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/spellbound/