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I wandered lonely as a cloud.

I have been called a Bard, and worse, in my Life.

Reach down deep inside and see what you can find.

This thread Isn't for the five liner and Telling Roland and Katrien to F OFF.
There's other threads for that !

Roly and Kat : A certain Je Ne Sais Quoi.

The Owner's Ideas were a fiasco,
right from the Get go.
If you listen to their quotes, Verbatim,
You can't help but hate em.
What is their Raison d'etre,
With mistake after mistake, et cetera.
We will lose our crowd en mass,
Because, that Roland is being crass.
A certain Femme Fatale,
Really enjoys having a row.
Henry Irving, said it would be a bumpy ride,
But this is just a downward slide.
Charlton will rise from the ashes,
Even thou the pain feels like forty lashes.
Our new name should be Schadenfreude City,
Some laugh,and others give pity.
The fans say the CEO became a Pariah,
some have even suggested, she might be a liar
But let's keep it clean,
and never too obscene.
As for the reason we are Charlton till we die ?
Is it because our Escape clause, has gone awry.

Give it a go; words are for Charlton Life, not just for Christmas Cards.

Comments

  • Shakespeare ? .. eat your heart out ((:>)
  • edited February 2016
    Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
    Creeps in this petty pace from game to game,
    To the last syllable of injury time;
    And all our yesterdays have lighted Belgian fools
    The way to dusty relegation. Out, out, brief championship status!
    Riga is but a walking shadow, Bergdich a poor player,
    That struts and frets his hour upon the lovely new playing surface,
    And then is heard no more. It is a tale
    Told by a Belgian idiot, full of sound and fury,
    Signifying nothing save disaster.
  • Been trying to do a 'There was an old man from Belgium' ditty, but Belgium is a bit like orange in that the ain't any words that rhymes with it ffs
  • They fuck you up your football team,
    They may not mean to, but they do.
  • Been trying to do a 'There was an old man from Belgium' ditty, but Belgium is a bit like orange in that the ain't any words that rhymes with it ffs

    What about rectum.
  • There was an old man from Belgium
    Who had a very sore rectum
    He slipped on a rock
    And lost his cock
    And now he's got a hairy vagina.

    ; )

  • edited February 2016
    There was an old man from Brussels,
    Who liked to flex his muscles.
    He only came to one game,
    winning wasn't even his aim.
    To break even, and evoke fair play Rules,
    seemed to be his Crown jewels.
    Bring on the youth,
    Let's raise the roof.
    Our Championship status will vanish,
    If we continue to be Flemish.
    The fat lady is about to sing,
    because the team have no vim.
    The crowd are about to depart,
    because we are going to hell in a cart.
    Roland's on a sticky wicket,
    Next year, no ones buying the season Ticket.
    They's had enough,
    The team is too rough.
    We needed a midfield Playmaker.
    instead we get a comms, mover and shaker.
  • Thanks for the assist on the first line, i_b_b_o_r_g
  • I cross em over, you head em in pal
  • Charlton, My true love

    Charlton, I need you, like a camel needs his hump,
    and a Pregnant women needs her bump.

    Charlton, i need you, Like Morcambe needed Wise,
    and a Cameleon needs a disguise.

    Charlton, I need you, like an away win needs a home defeat,
    and a three course meal needs a sweet.

    Charlton, I need you, like Casanova needed Women,
    and Rebecca Addlington needed Swimming.

    Charlton, I need you, like the tug of war team needs rope,
    and the junkie needs his dope.

    Charlton i need you,Like the old lady needs her bingo,
    And the Beatles needed Ringo.

    Charlton, I need you, like Katrien needs Roland,
    And Hitler needed to invade Poland.

    Charlton I need you, like Roland needs Katrien,
    And a nightmeire needs a dream.

    Charlton my true love.


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  • To the memory of Sam Bartram and Boys.

    And did those hands in ancient time,
    save upon charlton's valley green.
    And was the holy Robin of nature wings,
    on SE7 pleasant pastures seen.

    Bring me my scarf, of Black and white,
    Bring me my Charlton of desire.
    Bring me my Voice,
    and legs which stand.
    Bring me my Charlton back,
    with fire.

    I will not cease from mental fight,
    Not shall my sword slip in my hand.
    Till i have rid the Charlton folk,
    From Duchatelet's grim and cultish land.

    Bill Blake/Soapbox Sam 2016.
  • There was an old man from Brussels,
    Who liked to flex his muscles.
    He only came to one game,
    winning wasn't even his aim.
    To break even, and evoke fair play Rules,
    seemed to be his Crown jewels.
    Bring on the youth,
    Let's raise the roof.
    Our Championship status will vanish,
    If we continue to be Flemish.
    The fat lady is about to sing,
    because the team have no vim.
    The crowd are about to depart,
    because we are going to hell in a cart.
    Roland's on a sticky wicket,
    Next year, no ones buying the season Ticket.
    They's had enough,
    The team is too rough.
    We needed a midfield Playmaker.
    instead we get a comms, mover and shaker.

    He's from Antwerp...

    Can't think of anything to rhyme with that?

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