Bunting in the Rain
Please stop me from caring,
I just want to care no more,
About which teams are pairing,
Or their ever-fickle score.
I guess for those who play them,
They get healthy exercise,
(If they don’t descend to mayhem
Or collapse with hamstrung thighs).
It’s always all so macho
For the fans in branded shirts,
As we gorge on brews and nachos –
And we always cheer the most when someone’s hurt.
So stop me, please stop me,
From watching and watching,
And watching again.
Tackle and drop me,
Or book me and shop me –
Whatever is needed to make me abstain.
There’s so many better things I could be viewing,
And so many better things I should be doing.
Don’t censure or flatter
Each bowler and batter
For vacuous antics that don’t even matter.
We reckon we won it, and kicked ev’ry ball.
We claim that we done it, yet did bugger all !
So please stop me from caring
For I want to care no more –
Don’t tell me how they’re fairing,
And don’t let me hear their roar.
It’s just the same old grudges
And old jingos in disguise –
Sneaky trips and nudges
For a tuppence-ha’p’ny prize.
There’s always so much cheating,
As the sponsors rake their dues.
Victory is fleeting:
And when someone wins, then someone has to lose.
So stop me, please stop me,
From cheering and swearing,
And tearing out blame.
Slap me and chop me,
Or prod me and pop me,
Whatever is needed to give up the game.
Just watching and waiting in endless paralysis,
Pontificating in endless analysis.
We’re just getting fatter
On replays and chatter –
Let’s make a damn diff’rence to show that we matter !
Sucked out and soulless – so hard to ignore:
The whole thing is goalless, whatever the score.
So please stop me from caring,
I just want to care no more.
Rhyming Couplets 