This was a horror day,
Hitchcock's Day of the Bogans', let's say,
Grand Final Day of 2017,
The A.F.L.'S very worst dream,
When Crows played Tiges, so it seems,
Until power blacked out at 2:30,
No play was to be seen,
Then! A bomb scare at the M.C.G.,
The whole match was on stall,
But wait! That was not all,
They had to evacuate them all,
The bogans had a mighty brawl,
So Tigers played with themselves, good call,
Then! Seven inches of rain on the M.C.G.,
A field of rain and  mud was to be seen,
They had a regatta, it was now Henley,
The A.F.L's very worst dream,
Hitchcock's Day of Bogans at the M.C.G.,
Grand Final Day in 2017......

***--spell it as you like, any way,
His team played again today,
How do they lose so consistently,
Snatching defeat from the jaws of victory,
Now there's melancholia and doom,
He sulks alone in his empty room,
Ritual disembowelment of male gloom,
"Off to drown yourself, dear,"
"Never mind, one week at a time, cheers!"
"Yes, another rebuilding year!"
I can talk football too, my dears!

Yes, it's male Sundayitis,
AKA masculine vaginitis,
So, it's footy Sunday again,
Your great god Baal of sin,
Ever tried to lighten up?
A smile on your face of life's cup,
No, wake up negative!
Lucky for you I am so positive!
Men, **** yourselves on the front grass,
I've mopped the floors, that'll last,
Always keep on smiling,  I say,
For once, you too  have a delightful day!