TLW answer to Dave Kirby!

[Dante]

Thought I'd give the Rawk squirrel poem a twist.

 

If you were a squirrel you’d be highest in the tree

probably cos you smoked crack

 

If you were an insect you’d be the busiest little bee

hanging off a manc's nutsack

 

If you were a frog, you’d croak loudest of them all

probably down to the drugs

 

And if you were a giraffe you’d be tallest of the tall

infested with pubic bugs

 

And if you were an owl you’d be wise as wise can be

until the dementia set in

 

And if you were a dolphin you’d be the fastest in the sea

and finish up in a sad Jap's bin.

 

That is why we’re proud to have you as the leader of our team

as we write this painful shit

 

As we stand upon the Kop, hoping to live our dream

Exposing everyone on Rawk as a tit.

 

You direct our heroes here and there, pushing them for more

It’s only a matter of time before we bring home trophies galore

unless you're sacked like a dimestore whore.

 

So thank the lord you’re not a squirrel, dolphin giraffe, frog or bee

I just want you to know you mean all the world to me

My writing's infected with bad AIDS HIV.

[Melchett]

Pass, pass, pass, pass.

I'm dead weeeerkin' class.

I drink lots of beer.

Justin Fashanu was a queer.

Then there's Graham LeSaux.

The massive homo.

Patrice Evra is black.

Ducks go quack.

John Terry is a twat.

Pancakes are flat.

My willy is stiff.

Lemmings jumped of a cliff.

Walt Disney is dead.

Rihanna has a big forehead.

Tony Bellew is a blue.

He smells like poo.

I don't like mushrooms.

I do like cartoons.

TSO is a stunner.

I'd like to bum her.

Rashid was a crank

I'm off for a wank.

[Bobby Hundreds]

The dirty working class scouse playwright stylee

 

 

I'm up all night and it ain't because of some birds.

I'm up all night because there's WERMS IN ME TERDS.

[Charles Penrose]

He's getting on my fucking tits.

[RobbieOR]

If you were a squirrel you'd be highest in the tree

If you were an insect you'd be the busiest little bee

If you were a frog, you'd croak loudest of them all

And if you were a giraffe you'd be tallest of the tall

 

And if you were an owl you'd be wise as wise can be

And if you were a dolphin you'd be the fastest in the sea

That is why we're proud to have you as the leader of our team

As we stand upon the Kop, hoping to live our dream

 

You direct our heroes here and there, pushing them for more

It's only a matter of time before we bring home trophies galore

So thank the lord you're not a squirrel, dolphin giraffe, frog or bee

I just want you to know you mean all the world to me

[Harry Squatter]

I follow the red men everywhere

 

I’m an explorer, a man of new horizons,

I travel round Europe with less than a fiver

Because of the red men its no trouble,

Going to watch King Kenny and Barney Rubble

 

Leaving ours with just the shirt on me back,

Love going away with the lads, it’s good for the craic

Me mum gives me an apple to clean me teeth

In 3 days I’ll have worse BO than someone from Thatto Heath

 

Feared throughout Europe we converge to conquer again

Our dress sense copied by many a Cockney wankstain

Meet at the Rocket, bunk on at Broad Green

We’re the red men, the likes the world has never seen

No Easyjet around then or rip off club trips

Just avoid paying for everything, survive on your wits

 

Our city was the most important Empire City outside of London

Now its just a shell, a Tory Conundrum.

We’re off all over Europe, left the unemployment behind

The government of our day was never too kind

 

First stop is Holland, a town named Amsterdam

Anne Frank in her loft, 3 years without a decent scran

A team called Alkmaar we beat with a chip from Whelan

Now I’m getting that May Cup Final feelin’

Might lift some Gilders and pay to see some birds in the nack

She’ll ask me if I want more but its too late, I’ve already spunked me sack

 

Drinking Foreign beer, so strong it will strip your hair

We’re so cultured because you can’t buy it in Fine Fare

Amstel and Heineken its all Double Dutch to me,

Still looking for place to get a full English brekkie

 

Paisleys boys in Rome

 

Go to Rome, where Gladiators shed blood,

The Colosseum they battled till they no longer could

Discarded my Emperors when they became useless

But even they would panic fighting Graeme Souness

 

Me ma’s always wanted to come here to meet the Pope

Going to church every week she never lost her hope

Black smoke out the Vatican chimney would give her memories by the load

Just like when 20 of them huddled round their fire in Scottie Road

 

Playing Germans but eyeties turn up for a scrap

The bridge by the ground, I think it’s a trap

Look at these tools on their Vespas

Slashing our arses with knives trying to test us

The Carabineiri will stand by gripping their bats

I’m trying to work out who are the biggest twats

 

Panini, wasn’t he a sticker album?

Give us some Scouse for my aching tum

Spaghetti Carbonara?

Whats that palava?

Ravioli, thought he played for Milan?

Eyeties should stick to driving an ice cream van!

 

Paris in 1981 like

 

All the place I’ve been, I prefer Paris

Where it costs you a tenner just to go for a piss

Philly Thommo lifting the trophy with two big ears

Trying to wrestle it off some UEFA head queers

 

The Eiffel tower is tall, like standing on top of me shed

Although this place is nice its just not a patch on the Pier Head

I’d rather eat from a chippy but you can’t do it by Gare Du Nord

They eat frogs legs here but I’d rather eat an umbilical chord

 

Going to shops without Francs, Marks or Lira

Look at those trainees, to my bag they’re getting nearer

Escape to the Metro by diving over a barrier

No one from by ours can ever be more scallier.

 

Picking these clothes shops dry and wearing ten jumpers

I leg it out the shop and I run into a coppers bumper

Looks like its game over being collared by the Gendarme

As long as I keep hold of the trabs, i won’t come to no harm,

 

I wanna sell em in Paddy’s Market cos I know I’ll make a mint

Even though I’ve been round Europe, I’m officially skint

I supplement my income cos officially I’ve got no job,

Its Thatcher and the Tories who’ve made me go out on the rob

 

Driven by the coppers to Calais, escorted onto the boat

Told never to come back to France cos I’m a little scrote

Back on the ferry, I’m drinking it dry,

Robbing everything from the gift shop on the sly

Val Doonican tapes and fluffy teddies,

They’ll save me a fortune in Christmas pressies

 

Back in Dover I spot a lorry driver heading for Seaforth Dock

I ask for a lift but he wants me to suck his cock

No thanks driver I’ll take me chances on National Express

Even if it takes 20 hours it will save my chin being a mess

 

I’m an explorer, the Dr Livingstone of Kirkby

Off for a pint in the Falcon now cos I’m Fuckin thirsty

[stringvest]

My answer to Dave Kirby would be Dignitas.

[Harry Squatter]

Its not the same any more

 

It’s just not the same anymore you know what I mean

Its more of a rip off than one Robbie Keane

Its not affordable anymore to do every week

It’s cheaper to buy a big massive bag of beak

 

Playing the numbers game its all very well

Coco the clown and Moores knew the right time to sell

Two sharks bought the club and promised to build a ground

They took us to court to hang on for an extra few pound

 

Club trips to far off places took days with tales to remember

Now it’s a Thomas Cook trip and you’ve got to be a member

Paying money to stay on the season ticket list

Half the people on it are dead or have disappeared into the mist

 

Daytrippers in jester hats, Bluenoses taking the piss

Those days gone by just seem like bliss

Shankly saying same team as last year

Standing on the Kop with a roar and a cheer

 

Alex Ferguson controlling the FA, paying off the refs

He looks like a tramp in a doorway stinking of meths

I remember Remi Moses, Big Norm and Peter Davenport

Pity you couldn’t have stayed shit, would have been good for the sport

 

Man City the new rich kids in the street

I remember them relegated by a shit suited Pleat

You can have your Aguero, you can have your Yaya Toure

But they’ll never experience anything like my story

 

Everton the bitters they even love the Mancs

They’re like a jealous brother who only pulls skanks

They know more about us than we know ourselves

The Bullens road stand looks like old wooden shelves

 

Arsenal with their Nick Hornby clones

Clapping their team like 60,000 drones

Their not working class enough to like footy

I mean, who can afford six quid for a buttie?

 

Champions League where the champions don’t compete

All about the money and the balance sheet

Playing Chelsea five times in 4 years

Going to Stamford Bridge, it bores me to tears

All their supporters come from Kent,

Aptly named the boys of rent

 

Gone are the days of trips to Tbilisi

Getting a visa? – Finding £60 isn’t that easy

I long to blag my way across Europe for days through the Eastern Bloc

Where beer costs 10p and 50p for some bird to suck yet cock

 

Now it’s the Europa League they kick off at six

Every game on telly, presented by pricks

Sky telling us to get to a game at midday

Everyone else listens to smashing tales by Keys & Gray

 

If going to games was a dick measuring contest

Mine would be bigger than HMS Conquest

I stood at the Shankly gates and shook King Kenny’s hand

More famous than any member of THAT Liverpool band

 

When I go on holiday I tell everyone how great is the city

We’re all scousers together, we’re sound but we’re gritty

Everyone rolls their eyes with contempt

But at least I’m not from Stoke on Trent

 

I’ll just sit by the bar and end up getting gassed

You’ll shake your head and wish I’d be glassed

I talk in riddles and I’m so Uberscouse

I go on about Liverpool so much you’d think I’d never left my house

 

But I’ll tell you this, I’ve been there, seen it and done it

I know everything there is to know so don’t give me any shit

Boys Pen, Kop, Anny Road, 40 years home and away

Now I’ll get back to writing my next Scouser play

[Kurt]

Roses are blue

The green grass is hard to find

Violets are red

And I am colour blind

 

 

Charlie just moved to Stoke

Cos he desperately wanted some Coke

This story ends sad

No money he had

The guy was completely broke

 

 

And to end this session of brilliant poems i'd like to quote the gretaest poets of all time ... Simmonds and Stanley.

 

"You can call me Dr. Love, call me Dr. Love

I got the cure you're thinking of"

 

"You show us everything you got

Baby, baby, that's quite a lot

you drive us wild, we'll drive you crazy"

[Liverpool lad]

If there was a Manc or Everton fan doing the equivalent then we would be pissing ourselves laughing.

 

From what I have gathered he seems a decent fella and eager to help other Reds out, but he needs to swerve the poetry.

 

Although on here he is ridiculed for his part in calling DT a Dutch cunt.

[Magic Sponge]

Some funny shit on twitter.

 

@DavePoetry: We're Scouse, we always walk through a storm. New Yorkers don't know they're born. We hold our head up high & look to the turbulent sky.

 

@DavePoetry: #NextCelebrityNonce not me. I'm Dave Kirby. I love tits & poetry. I sit in the boozer being cringey, reciting poems from 1983. Bumble bee.

 

@DavePoetry: Who's next on Savile's perv list? I reckon Rolf Harris & Tony Pulis. They're defo dodgy, something amiss. Defo the type to give kids a kiss.

 

@DavePoetry: Adele. She'd be shit to goose. She'd just lay there with her fanny that's loose. The fat moose. I'd rather bum Beetlejuice.

 

@DavePoetry: Death Vader. He was defo an arse invader. He had an head like a Space Raider. Breathed loud like an asthmatic Power Ranger. Stranger danger.

 

@DavePoetry: Bill Kenwright. He's weird, he's not alright. His hair is white, his team is shite & he's skint as well as tight. The fucking gobshite.

 

@DavePoetry: Luis dived in front of Moyes. Out of the pram, he threw his toys. Neville dived, it's another one of his ploys. Mark Lawro loves little boys

 

@DavePoetry: Lets talk about sex baby. Lets talk about Dave Kirby. Lets talk about all the dirty woman beaters that support EFC. Lets talk about sex.

[Guest LFD]

Haha very good!

[Magic Sponge]

@DavePoetry: When I was a lad, it weren't about bunking off school and having sly wanks, sometimes we'd visit Anfield to watch Liverpool and Shanks.

[Magic Sponge]

Fucking funny these.

 

@DavePoetry: Old Scouser Tommy, all day, been getting hummed, on my iPod, YNWA has been getting bummed. Then the Anfield Rap came on, I nearly cummed.

[Harry Squatter]

He'll have to find some new material soon. Puts pint down and stares out of window dreaming of days gone by....

[zigackly]

What a load,

Of bollocks,

This doesn't rhyme.

[Dan]

Tick, tock clock.

The hands go 'round the clock.

Jimmy saville is dead

Tick, tock.

His cock.

tick, tock

 

tick, tock clock

gary glitter was his mate.

tick, tock.

Dirty cunt

tick tock

 

Tick tock clock,

It was a goal, fucking bell end ref and linesman,

tick tock.

 

Tick...

 

 

 

Tock

[Fugitive]

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Spunk in a cup

Artificial insemination

Romance