Leave a comment on verse 1 0
Moysey went to wet his whistle down his local pub.
He sank a pint and whisky chaser, tucked into some grub.
In walked a dapper Spanish dude, Benitez, yes, ‘twas he!
He sat right next to David, and he said: “Long time, no see…
Leave a comment on verse 2 0
…Amigo, how’s it going?” asked the Spaniard of the Scot.
“Have you won any Trophies, Titles, Medals, Silver Pots?”
“Ah’ve nae complaints, mon, nae complaints, it’s all gone pretty guid.
Mah Toffees came in fourth, ye ken, we’re in the Champions’ League…
Leave a comment on verse 3 0
And how about ye Redmen? I heard ye finished fifth.
I hope ye’ve nae objection if I mildly take the p—.
But what’s with that there tucker bag you’re holding in your hand?
Don’t say they’ve sent ye packing straight back to your native land?”
Leave a comment on verse 4 0
Then Rafa saw his chance had come, it seemed too good to miss.
He thought “I’ll show this cheeky Scot I too can take the p—.”
He gave a sigh, he smiled wry, to ten he counted up.
He delved deep down into his bag…fished out the Euro Cup!!!