Finnigans Finish

 They thought I'd be a champion;
 They boasted loud of me.
A dozen victories I'd won,
 The Press was proud of me.
I saw myself with glory crowned,
 And would, beyond a doubt,
Till last night in the second round
 A Dago knocked me out.

It must have been an accident;
 I cannot understand.
For I was so damn confident
 I'd lick him with one hand.
I bounded in the ring to cheers;
 I panted for the fray:
Ten minutes more with hoots and jeers
 They bore me limp away.

I will not have the nerve to face
 The sporting mob today;
The doll I fell for--my disgrace
 Will feel and fade away.
Last night upon the brink of fame
 No favour did I lack:
Tomorrow from the sink of shame
 I'll beg my old job back.

Form: Ballad

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