Misguided but talented
Stuck between the Devils a Sky blue sea
With only Sam Allerdyce’s boys for company
He grew up hard he grew up strong
Afflicted by a northern tonge.
Bye eck twas ard to sing thy Arsenal songs
One-nout to thy Arsenal, One-nout to thy Arsenal
Simply sounded wrong.
Speaking in thick Lancashire it can only be surmised
On the terraces of North London brought mirth and surprise
If only they knew as we do, the power in his word
Wenger might sign him to inspire the foreign hoard
If his beloved red and white
played like this man can write
The premiership would tremble
Barca, Milan and the rest would crumble.
Who is this chap I hear you cry
Oh just old Nik, he might be Gooner,
But as a writer he’s one hell of a guy
Happy Birthday Nik!
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