Tennis Hole

Now Murray's gone out
How will we fill the hole
THe sense of something gnawing
Deep within the soul
Cos cheering Johnny foreigner
Just seems rather hollow
And another nation's identity
Isn't ours to borrow
But I guess that we are free now
To get on with our lives
INstead of suspending play
Like bees asleep in hives
We'll wake up in the morning
And wonder to ourselves
Did that all really happen
Or was it just some elves
Who sprinkled tennis fairy dust
On our knitted brows
To make us feel less serious
Whilst herding sacred cows


  1. You can sing this to the tune of 'Trumpton Riots' by HALF MAN HALF BISCUIT. Works quite well.


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