The Famous Arbroath Smokie

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Clubs’ half-time fare
Provokes despair,
The chips are thick and stodgy.
The Bovril’s foul
And makes you scowl,
The burgers look quite dodgy.
The ham and cheese –
-Oh God! Pur-leeze! –
Will turn your voice all croaky.
No food, nowhere
Can e’er compare
With Arbroath’s famous Smokie.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 The team, perhaps,
Is wont to lapse
In Scotland’s lower quarters.
With ups and downs
Come grins and frowns
On faces of supporters.
But half-time fish
Remains the dish
That makes them hokey-cokey.
Come rain or shine
They stand in line
To get their Arbroath Smokie.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 On derby days,
In mist or haze,
Yon haddock takes some beating.
And yes, it seems
The stuff of dreams
When Montrose fans are greeting.
Beside the pitch,
The food hut which
May seem a trifle poky
Dispenses taste
With seemly haste,
The famous Arbroath Smokie.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Its fame has spread
To Peterhead
From Ullapool to Berwick,
From hippie, punk
And brain-dead hunk
To viscount, earl and cleric.
The wild-haired Finn
With manic grin,
The Okie from Muskogee,
In voices loud
They’ve all avowed
They love the Arbroath Smokie.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 The connoisseur
Is known to purr
With caviar and brandy.
But in among
The Gayfield throng,
His legs would go quite bandy.
He’d holler, shout
And jump about,
Performing karaoke
To spread the fame
And wide acclaim
Of Arbroath’s famous Smokie.



So good its now EU protected.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-famous-arbroath-smokie/