Sunday, May 25, 2008

‘Twas the night of Eurovision

‘Twas the night of Eurovision
And the Serbs had come to town.
It was not a hard decision
Which to choose.
So we headed off for Croker
For the Serbian showdown,
Knowing well ‘twould be a choker
Should we lose.
And we yelled for Trapattoni
To cast out the old baloney
That had made our recent hist’ry
Somewhat arduous and stony.
Would our future become clearer?
Was the Holy Grail now nearer?
Oh our hopeful hearts were welcoming
The Trapattoni era.
Que sera
What will be
Bring it on.

‘Twas the night of Eurovision
And the Serbs weren’t quite on song.
We howled with some derision
As a group.
Though ourselves, we weren’t too perky
As so many moves went wrong
Did we have another turkey
In the coop?
Then McShane behaved slapdashly
Playing offside somewhat rashly
And their striker latched onto it
Chipped it over Kiely brashly.
Was it nul points for Irlanda?
Yes, we looked at our commander.
Would he answer Colm Murray
With veracity and candour?
Que sera
What will be
Bring it on.

‘Twas the night of Eurovision
And the minutes ticked away.
With Italian supervision,
Nothing changed.
We were still as far from winning,
Thought supporters in dismay,
This was not the new beginning
We’d arranged.
Then a moment of Serb folly
And young Keogh smashed home a volley
And the mood was lifted instantly,
No longer melancholy.
Douze points shall be our slogan,
Andy Keogh is Johnny Logan,
But will Signor Trap turn into
An Italian Terry Wogan?
Que sera
What will be
Bring it on.
.
Ireland 1 Serbia 1 (Friendly)