In those bygone ages of bobs and of tanners The old folk still moaned how the kids had no manners They talked of the era before cathode rays How the wireless was all that could brighten their days They remembered the days when there were few cars When you walked it to school, no matter how far Memories of hardship, of war and of rations Of Chaplin and Keaton and forgotten fashions As the decades march on it will become my time To don rose-tinted glasses and pen my own rhyme Of my earliest memories from past childhood years A fond reminiscence with all of my peers Tell how landlines, not mobiles, were all you could call And "internet" was where you booted the ball Reminders of PCs before the millennium Games with crap graphics, the first ever Pentium I'll post my warm memories for others to see On the BBS in the year two-oh six three We're all pretty similar when all's said and done Some things are eternal, nostalgia for one
Barnsley is my Town n Team, Oakwell stadiums a great place to be, Goals are wot r like to see, Championship football for all to see. CUM ON YE REDS
Back in the days of Iley Out, When fans went to matches to have a good shout, When players earned wages, not six figure sums, And we had to stand up, cos there were nowt for our bums. Back in the days of Division Four, When we needed The Green 'Un to find out the score, When the players smoked cigs and drank plenty of beer-oes, But still somehow managed to turn into heroes. Back in the days of the Trackie bus, When a crowd of five thousand felt like a crush, When players got fouled properly and didn't need to mime, And we walked round the ground to change ends at half-time. Back in the days of the open air bogs, When we played in all weathers - come hail, snow or fog, When players were rock hard with no airs and graces, And Brian Joicey's goals would put smiles on our faces. Back in the days of Spud and the rest, Before that bloke Sniffer turned up and impressed, "They dont want to go up", that's what they would shout, Back in the days of Iley Out.
Stendel had a Quality Striker, his talents were there to see, And evrywhere that Stendel went, the Striker was sure to go, He followed him to Sunderland one day,and scored a foooking blinder, C.O.Y.R.
Ian Mac's Stories from a mining village (read by Funtime Fontaine) is an amazing achievement - six stories charting the life of a barnsley lad is simply stunning
Back in the night.......... Back in the night I lay down by your fireside Back in the night you shook me like a landslide I nearly missed the early shift Dreamin' in the morning 'bout the things we did Back in the night Back in the night Back in the night Back in the night Beneath your love light I woke up on the floor, I asked you for some breakfast You shoved me out the door, I jumped on to the late bus I got to smile, I like your style You put me out this morning but you know that I'll be Back in the night Back in the night Back in the night Back in the night Beneath your love light The days go by so slow, I feel just like I'm dying Stop work whistle blow and then I start reviving Across your yard, beneath the stars I made it thru another day and here we are Back in the night Back in the night Back in the night Back in the night Beneath your love light
Back in the day, i was in love wi thee, We were wild an free, and climbed a big fooookin tree, But tha not wot, thar used to be, Its like thar somebody else, thar aint thisen, So get thisen back to me.
Nice to read a nice positive thread. Some great poets . Need A view new songs for the terraces . Iley out Iley out