Good King Marlon Harewood
01/12/03 | by Alastair Gunn

Good King Ma-arlon looked out,
On the Forest of Harty,
All the infidels play round about,
Slow and crap and swarthy;
Brightly shone the Ham that night,
Tho' their form was cruel,
When a Pardew came in sight,
Gath'ring transfer window fuel.

"Hither, scout, and stand by me,
If thou know'st it, telling,
Yonder scout, who is he?
Where and what his dwelling?"
"Sire, he lives a good league hence,
'Neath a debt-ridden mountain;
Right against the Forest defence,
By Market Square's fountain."

"Bring me strength, and bring me pace,
Bring me fast legs hither:
Thou and I will see him race,
When we watch that sprinter."
Scout and manager, forth they went,
Forth they went together;
Thro' the midland's wild lament
And the shitty weather.

"Scout, the market's cheaper now,
The big gun's wallet stronger;
Size of my pocket, I know not how,
I can wait no longer."
Mark my bargaining, good my scout;
Bid so very lowly:
Thou shalt find the manager's clout
Freeze their assets less coldly."

In his new gaffer's steps he trod,
Where the team played better;
And how $000 very odd
The wage packet was heftier.
Therefore, talented players, be sure,
Pace or flair possessing,
Ye who now will play for the poor,
Shall yourselves find blessing.