The ballad of Bison Fury

It's Friday, it's scorching,
it's time for a story,
So kick off your shoes,
As I tell you of Fury,
A proud travelling man,
With a visage defiant,
Almost seven feet tall,
Is the great gypsy giant,

As a youth he showed promise,
At boxing's sweet science,
He despatched all comers,
And talked trash with defiance,
For a big man his footwork,
Was a sight to behold,
Feints and jabs smoothly thrown,
Then a fine shoulder roll,

But he wasn't the greatest,
Was our trusty Tyson,
Till he ate of the flesh,
Of a nandrolone Bison,
As his hair lost it's thickness,
His performance level did soar,
Which would happen to anyone,
On a diet of boar,

One evening in Germany,
He outpointed the best,
Though his triumph was fleeting,
When he failed a drug test,
Then his hair loss continued,
And he grew a big belly,
He became famous for saying,
Rude things on the telly,

Now he's making a comeback,
And we'll know who to thank,
When he batters a no mark,
It's his new best friend Frank,
Will he get back to greatness,
Will he beat AJ soon?
Well the saga restarts,
On the ninth day of June,

Though his record is tarnished,
And his character flawed,
A part of me wants,
His reputation restored,
There's something about him,
That's suggestive of glory,
So I'll be watching the return,
Of big Bison Fury,

 

Ah! the bane of the poet,
Those harsh words from the masses,
For they love not fine verse,
Those deluded dumba*ses,

Now I'm angry and bitter,
and ready to rant,
at the unfair review,
From that *astard Faceplant

Still my answer to critics,
Leaves them stunned and agog,
When their arse is stuffed with,
A prickly hedgehog,

 

I'd have been chuffed with 'passable doggerel' mate but I'll happily accept it....

 

Soon we'll see the next chapter,
Of the big gypsy Manc,
Whose returned to the ring,
Thanks to promoter Frank,
This time an Italian,
Is the punchbag du jour,
Let's hope that he's half decent,
Cause Seferi was poor,

But who's that in the wings,
With that athletic bod?
It's a tall Alabamian,
Who is shouting Bomb Squad,
Could it be that our hero,
Will be upping his game,
And taking on Wilder,
At the boxing game,

Let's hope Bison's next fight,
See's him fight someone better,
Than a fat washed up fella,
By the name of Pianeta,
If he's taking on Wilder,
He'll deserve a big hand,
And we'll all cheer him on
At the MGM Grand,

 

It's true with a verse,
I'm oft at the ready,
But it's all at the wish,
Of my good old friend Eddie,
I remember at Eton,
That school with no lasses,
He asked if I'd write,
Crap rhymes for the masses,
Twas part of his scheming,
His dastardly plot,
To take from Frank Warren,
Everything he had got,
So now on this forum,
My poetry stinks,
And it somehow helps Matchroom,
Or so Eddie thinks,
Though it rarely scans well,
And strains to be funny,
I'll continue to post it,
Cause it's making me money,