When Moses took the tablets

He asked with nervous cough,

“Excuse me, Lord, for saying so,

I think you’ve missed one off”.

Now Moses plays for Leicester,

Renowned for mighty packs,

So said “Thou shalt not give the ball

To Fairies in the Backs”.

 

And ever since my schooldays

Spent playing tight-head prop

You’d learn to see their fly-half as

A poncy little fop

Who’d dance and jink on twinkletoes,

An 18 year old pup,

But didn’t look so dandified

Once you’d rucked him up.

 

And if by some unlikely chance

The ball should ever land

From misplaced pass of team-mate

Unsurely in your hands

A prop’s job was to drop it

And suffer their wise-cracks;

The last thing you would ever do

Is give it to your backs.

 

They take eleven seconds

To run the 100 metres

And when they face a fatboy

Will always, always beat us.

But if you catch one unawares

When the ref is turned away

And belt him on the lug-hole

You really spoil his day;

 

He seems to lose his appetite

The game’s not so much fun

He does not want the ball no more

His dancing day is done;

And as for your own team-mates

(Fatboys or All Blacks)

Remember, never give it to

The Fairies in the Backs.