                  ONCE UPON a      TIME
                                                                                          ezine at l'atelier bonita
                                                     established since december 2002

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LAST SUNDAY MORNING
by Cecco

Last Sunday morning, as I sat on the can,

You came to my mind, poor excuse for a man,

You call yourself my cousin,

To me your just nothin`,

You were making up stories, that do not exist,

Victories, trophies, no reason to insist,

But if you look at it clearly, never even a contender,

Nor in the past, nor in the present, not even the future,

You said that our cups, were not worth even a cent,

Please don't be jealous, the whole world is content,

They've let you play in europe, to fill in the gap,

But the most you've achieved is misery and crap,

You were left with the derby, you poor little screw ups,

While we battled in serie A, and the european cups,

Yes, it's true, we've spent time in serie B,

But my love for our Lazio is as big as the sea,

We were born long before you, and achieved great success,

You were left watching and crying in search for caress,

If I said that I loved you I'd probably be insane,

But I'd even help God take away some of your pain,

At the end of the day, you're just a poor loser

but look on the bright side, in May on a cruiser,

So dear little cousin, I'd like to remind you,

So listen up carefully I'll tell you what's true,

At the end of this long campionato pazzo,

To me lo scudetto, for you a piece of cazzo

© 2003 Cecco

_______________

Cecco, regarded by the Editor as one of the last romantics, "wishes to remain mysterious."

                                                   ONCE UPON      a TIME
                                                                                          ezine at l'atelier bonita
                                                     established since december 2002

Home Contact us Letters to the Editor Studio Bonita