No Requiem for the Kopites

[Captain Carrot]

No Requiem for the Kopites

 

The voice of thousands full of song

No battles on the run, no striking out

We moved quick and sudden from our city

The Kopite stood on the terraces with the Road

Anfield singing – on the march –

 

We found new heart with each sweated minute

Cut through feeble chants with our songs

Then waved our banners at the defeated throng

 

So at Stamford Bridge, ore’ the fateful conclave

Terraced Kopites sang, shaking red scarves at plastic

The Bridge blushed, soaked in our unbroken wave

They watched us without voice nor history

As our spirit marched on from the grave

 

Apologies to Seamus Heaney

[Armin_Tamzarian]

Very nice. Here, have some b*****dised Tennyson

 

1.

 

Champions league, Champions League

Champions League Onward!

Marooned midst the sea of Plastic

Sang the Three Thousand

"Forward, the Red Brigade!

"Charge for the goals!" they said:

Into the terraces of Plastic

Sang the Three thousand

 

2.

 

"Forward, the Red Brigade!"

Was there a man dismay'd?

Not tho' the supporters knew

Someone* had blunder'd:

Their's not to make reply,

Their's not to reason why,

Their's but to Sing and Cry:

Deafening the terraces of Plastic

Sang the Three Thousand.

 

 

*Riise

 

3.

 

Chavvers to right of them,

Plastic flags to left of them,

Mercenaries in front of them

Russias oil plundered;

Surrounded by cockney bells,

Loudly they sang and well,

Into the Stamford Silence,

Into the home of Plastic

Sang the Three Thousand.

 

4.

 

Flash'd all their banners there,

Red as they turn'd in air,

We'd survived the gunners lair,

Tho charged a kings ransom, while

All the world wonder'd:

Plunged in the London smoke

Never crossed the line we joke;

Cossack and Russian

Reel'd from the songs they sang

Bladdered but not with Chang.

Onward to Moscow

Sang the three thousand,

 

5.

 

Chavvers to right of them,

Plastic flags to left of them,

Mercenaries in front of them

Russias oil plundered;

Confronted by beaut and bell,

Loudly they sang and well,

Back from the Bridge they came,

Plastic flags seemed so tame

Sang the Three Thousand.

 

6.

 

When can their glory fade?

O the great noise they made!

All the world wondered.

Honor the songs they made,

Honor the Red Brigade,

Noble three thousand.

[Rich Gobey]

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty dumpty had a great fall,

all the kings horses and all the kings men

said f*** off Chelsea.

[Mike]

backlash

make a splash

foaming crests of ketchup congeal on the kings road

[Armin_Tamzarian]

On Fulham Road did Abramovich

A Plastic Football Club decree:

Where Frank, the fattened one did run

His a*** eclipsed the setting sun,

On coaches he took space designed for three

[smithdown]

I wander through each chartered street,

Near where the chartered Thames does flow,

And all it stunk of vermin's p*ss,

Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

 

In every cry of plastic fan,

In every cockney's cry of fear,

In every voice, in every ban,

"Them Scousers!" all the world can hear.