God made the googly bowler With ominous design, That men might see the dreadful fate Of those who drink no wine, Of calculating scientists Who stop at home and think, While decent-minded citizens Are ordering a drink.
The googly bowler googles With leg-breaks from the off, And other things that would disgust, A self-respecting toff. His wild appeals for leg-before Create an awful din, And when he gets the batsman out He gives a horrid grin.
Let googly bowlers tremble, For I will eat my hat Unless I show these cricket-men The proper way to bat. Oh, I will bash their googly tricks, And loudly will proclaim That only those who drink the wine Can hope to play the game!
