The Death of Test Cricket
Oh we do love the game called cricket
That’s played on a grassy turf wicket
But with 10 mills of grass
It requires more ass than class
Just don’t buy a day 3 ticket.
It was a brief Boxing Day Test
One unlike all the rest
Without twists and turns
We’d already retained The Urn
It would only last 2 days at best.
Bradman’s turning in his grave
For the grand old game we couldn’t save
The game we once loved so well
Has turned into a sport they play in hell
What was once a king is now a slave.
It’s with a heavy heart I say unto you
Goodbye, auf wiedersehen and adieu
Test cricket will never be the same
We just witnessed the death of the game
Bazball’s bastard child finally came through.
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