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The Submarine Bar

Peter Goulding

Wednesday, September 17th, 2003

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 The Submarine Bar is up for sale,
A snip at fifteen million.
The price would make the nerve ends quail
For many a Joe or Gillian.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Located out in Walkinstown,
The place is often swaying,
For that is where the craic goes down,
Whenever Ireland’s playing.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 The three-toned hats are on display,
Like something from the Tweenies,
The oul’ wans sing Olé Olé,
And sip their dry martinis.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 All faces cricked up in the air
To watch the television,
They tear their hair out in despair
At every bad decision.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 And if it’s an important match,
Then RTE comes calling,
Trying very hard to catch
The sense that it’s enthralling.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 The lads all brandish pints of beer,
And spill slops on their bellies,
And if we score, they give a cheer
And shout out at the tellies.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 The pub has come to symbolise
The modern day supporter,
Who watches games through square-shaped eyes
While lowering the porter.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 He’s Irish as his pint of stout,
He roars on Ireland’s goals,
But when the weekend comes, he’ll shout
For Larsson, Giggs and Scholes.

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 For football’s best when it is viewed
On thirty six inch screen.
The atmosphere’s far better, dude,
Down in the Submarine.

© Peter Goulding 17th September 2003

Notes

The natural habitat of the Greater Spotted Irish Football Supporter, commonly referred to as “The Barstool Brigade”

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-submarine-bar/