Bye Bye Becks
You've got all our respects
You were tetchy and lacked pace
But you still deserved your place
So long Dave
You made people rant and rave
But you stood all that baloney
After kicking Simeone
Ciao Mr Posh
You've made shedloads of dosh
At least you could kick a ball
I mean your wife can't sing at all
Farewell David B
You'll go down in history
With your shades made by Police
And your free-kick against Greece
Kiss kiss and toodle-oo
And the teachers all thank you
For now every single class'll
Know about the metatarsal
See you, home yer go
To Brooklyn, Cruz, and Romeo
You'll always have your palace
While you work with Mr Lalas
And to you Signor Capello
Say goodbye, and don't say hello,
To a tireless old right-winger
Whose left foot was just a swinger
If you treat the others gently
(Shauny, Lennon and D. Bentley)
We could stop this veneration
Of a golden generation
Of overpaid young chaps
Who just never hit their straps
When the tough should've got goin'
We had crocks in Becks and Owen
We can't say you didn't try
But it's still time to say goodbye
Cos it's obviously quite hard
To move further than a yard
And it would only bring you down
To play right side with Wes Brown
So it's Bye bye, bye bye Becksy
Though me missus found you sexy
I just think it's wrong
To see a bloke in a sarong
Cheers, Becks. Give me regards to Tom and Katie. Take some pies home for the wife. And good luck to you, son.
copyright Robbo Robson
http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/606/A33899269