Beaten down, we lose
but there are always more games
and our spirits rise. |
|
Beaten down, we win;
the day is bright with anger.
They belong to me. |
|
Dampness comes to us
and we swell with perfect hate.
We will play to win. |
|
Poorly written verse
will not stop our efforts.
More crap forthcoming. |
|
Age has not withered us
It was the beer
Wot really done it |
|
Emotion fails me;
a better way must be found.
It will come to pass. |
|
Overhead it sails
and victory quickly fades.
Lost in the red mist. |
|
Beaten down, we lose
but there are always more games
and our spirits rise. |
|
