Let's raise a bitter glass,
Football's here at last,
And that's not all,
Teams do crowds enthrall,
From a victory,
****** defeat, you see,
No flag again this year,
Bitter glass, my dears,
Football's finally a'loose,
Pour that glass of bitter juice!

Leeds United on the attack
No sign of holding back
No matter what the score
We keep knocking on that door

Slicing through opposing lines
Creating chances many times
We really should score many more
That would bring us to the fore

Bamford bangs them in of course
Making us a formidable force
Get those shooting boots on, one and all
Let’s get past that defensive wall

Raphinha brings Brazilian magic
His silky skills are so fantastic
Kalvin runs the midfield show
Gives our team a rapid flow

Bielsa’s brain and dedication
Provides us with a firm foundation
He has us marking man for man
Keeping to the pressing plan

People hated us in the past
Now they love us, no more typecast
Strange to be so often praised
Enjoying having our profile raised

So here’s to Leeds, our beloved team
Hoping soon to be the cream
Keep going you men in white
Aiming for a future bright

Paul Butters

© PB 10\3\2021.

It seems that football and beer is a  much More desired plan today
Than words spoken from the heart or wisdom... or art of the grey,
But what can I say?
I'm too passionate about it,
I can't give up...

Shadows of the past coming to remind me that once upon a time I was quite okay with everything...
As long as I was myself and I was mine not someone elses...

I guess I grew up and I prefer another path... Something that makes me feel complete... myself...

Bielsa’s Boys go bombing on.
Hear it, hear it,
Hear our song.

Running further than the rest,
Leeds United are the best.
Scything through the opposition,
Scoring goals our only mission.

Top flight teams are running scared,
Afraid of a team that’s uncompared:
Players drilled on “Murderball”,
Making them feel so very tall.

We’ve even a Brazilian in our team.
Bielsa buys only the cream.
Brazil themselves are doing great deeds:
They say they’re playing just like Leeds.

Shame about those missing fans,
Still busy washing their hands.
Can’t wait for that Elland Road roar
Celebrating every score.

Before too long we’ll be World Champs,
Shining bright like electric lamps.
Bamford scoring all those goals,
Shutting the mouths of Keane and Scholes.

Bielsa’s Boys go bombing on.
Hear it, hear it,
Hear our song.

Paul Butters

© PB 1\1\2021.

I sat on top of the world; everyone knew my name
Now I try to find my way back, all I know is shame

My cars; crashed into parties, everyone wanted to be in my fancy wear
Why didn’t I look up investing and insuring; now I don’t mind if its rag, please just give me something to wear

My name was held in high esteem, white line called to me from Whitney’s rear
She never came back for me, but watched as I derail

Day and Night, I looked up to Whiskey, it became my religion
Now at the altar in search of salvation from the true religion

                           ♚
                   Kunbi Dia