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CHANTING TRIBE

The charge of the tribe to the ale house

All in there red regalia

To chants and chorus of hero’s

All washed down with jugs of beer

Each one with a different vision

Of the battle that’ll soon commence

For their tools are left out of fashion

When the teams start kicking the ball

Unpredicted outcomes

Until the final whistle blows

And then they’ll stand in defeat or glory

To applause the hungry one

Who took the chances the risk’s

And the pack do jigs and dances

One voice chanting all the way

Copyright Cameron McIntyre 2003    Web design by www.lps-belfast.co.uk