Phil Roberts


I am 64 and loves cats, rock music, and horror fiction and poetry

The Meter Maids are on the move
They’re coming south and coming fast,
Their prospects sure are promising
Because their piracy was vast.

The Gold Coast Meter Maids
Have lied, cheated, and stolen,
To put together a mighty team
In a style that’s not beholden.

For the Meter Maids got to steal
Ablett and many other superstars,
So they can win a chook raffle
Yes, and so they’ll win it fast.

Not years to build a winning team
Like the others mainly did,
They’re a blight in the sight of fair play
But a blight we can’t get rid.

For a bookkeeper runs the AFL
With dollar signs instead of eyes,
A man who does what e’er he will
Who cheats, and steals, and lies.

So it’s a chook raffle in year eleven
Just like we’ve had before,
For the Lions, the Cows, and Weagles
To make our indignation soar.

The Meter Maids will win the raffle
And gloat on what they took,
But for followers of fair play,
Well … We think it’s mighty crook.

The Cats, the Mags, the Saints, and Dogs
Have all been treated poorly,
Democracy may not yet be broken
But they sure have bent it sorely.

Now decency is not allowed
Not in the bloody AFL,
And when it comes to doing right
They tell us all to go to Hell!

The bookkeeper just has dollar signs
Where most of us have eyeballs,
So he’ll let the Meter Maids reign
And see the Lions fall.

© Copyright 2021, Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia