’Twas brillig, and the Super Twos,
Did gyre and gimble in the Hayes:
All mimsy were the Imperials,
And the mome Finz we played.
“Beware Charlie Stevens , my son!
The jaws that bite, the hands that catch!
Beware new Gary, and shun
The frumious late high hit on Jake!”
Macduff slapped our vorpal ball on;
Long time in the bin, so he fought—
Jude rested by Jerry and Matt,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought they stood,
The Mighty Monk, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the Finz backline,
And Will Thomas fumbled as he lamed!
One two, one two, and through and through
Startin and Mitch went snicker-snack!
3 tries, 2 kicks, and with the points
we went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain those Cheeky Imps?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!z
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
We chortled in our joy.
’Twas brillig, and the Super twos
Did gyre and gimble in the Hayes
All mimsy were the Imperials,
And the 19-12 score, we made.