Premier Roudabout.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Russian Roulette.
Scolari gets the bullet.
Adams cast adrift.
Scolari, Adams, on the dole,
Premier League again takes it’s toll.
No time for them to make their mark,
Down to the players on the park.
The fans who have paid out their dues,
To support Pompey and the blues,
Can see no pride to wear the shirts,
This is the thing that really hurts.
They will still drive their big flash cars,
And swan around like super stars,
Whilst fans who pay their hard earned cash,
See them come and go in a flash.
They kiss the badge and make a pose,
But in a trice they thumb their nose.
And wave their hand and give no thanks,
Then stash the cash in foreign banks.
Supporters hopes they never wain,
And go through agony and pain.
They cheer,support their home town team,
To win a trophy is their dream.



Adams loses his job through local park defending by Crouch and Distin.
Scolari on his way because Chelsea have too many constipated players. They are just going through the motions, they are overpaid and overhere.

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/premier-roudabout/