Started the season with zero and two
But we did not panic there was no blue
Taming the lions was no surprise
Then we stuck it up Eddies hot and cold pies
Gave the cats a scare and ran out of puff
Gave the hawks a spanking and strutted our stuff
We cut the giants down to size
Then sang the blues, Sainters on the rise
The swans midfield were far too strong
And the dogs got to sing their favourite song
We reach mid season at five and five
Not ideal but we're still alive
Since 66 we've been in a fix
And we need to improve to be in the mix
It's time to learn a few new tricks
And beat all comers when everything clicks
So thank you all my fellow bards
As Rhyming Saints we do the hard yards
Imagine how good the poems will be
When we reach the top of the premiership tree
Mid season Rhyming Report
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- WellardSaint
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Re: Mid season Rhyming Report
The Dogs had our number
We ran out of luck
But half of the team
just don't give a f###
We tackled like madmen
At least in the first
But when the maggots ignored us
Our guys lost the thirst
The umps were predictable
As we all know
They put away the whistles
To let the Dogs throw
We entered the 50
enough to make your head spin
But our f##ing turnovers
Just let the Dogs in
Our kicks to position
Just found a Dogs' chest
And we're kidding ourselves
If this 22 is our best
At least, Round 11,
We won't fail again;
But the following week,
Our boys take on MEN
The Crows will harrass us,
They'll pull down our pants;
And unless it's our A-Game,
We have no FU##ING chance
We ran out of luck
But half of the team
just don't give a f###
We tackled like madmen
At least in the first
But when the maggots ignored us
Our guys lost the thirst
The umps were predictable
As we all know
They put away the whistles
To let the Dogs throw
We entered the 50
enough to make your head spin
But our f##ing turnovers
Just let the Dogs in
Our kicks to position
Just found a Dogs' chest
And we're kidding ourselves
If this 22 is our best
At least, Round 11,
We won't fail again;
But the following week,
Our boys take on MEN
The Crows will harrass us,
They'll pull down our pants;
And unless it's our A-Game,
We have no FU##ING chance
A real Sainter will pledge allegiance to the ❤ and despise the Pies, the Blues, and the Injectors.
Remember one of the 10 Commandments : Thou shalt have no other team before thee
Remember one of the 10 Commandments : Thou shalt have no other team before thee
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