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The SpArkz

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11/7/10 Updated through Bebo Mobile | me too! | Reply

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  • Male, 23, Luv 523
  • from Omagh Sirrr!!
  • I am Down for Whatever
  • Profile views: 3,475
  • Member since: July 2009
  • Last active: Jul 2
  • www.bebo.com/MarkL3526
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  • BUCKFAST!!! Yeoooooooooooooooooooooo

    My Ode To Buckfast

    There is place in Devon that's a favourite place of mine,
    It's name is Buckfast Abbey where they make a special wine,
    The wine is made with love and pride by Benedictine monks,
    Who dance on grapes with dirty feet then strain it through their trunks.

    The Buckfast wine has been around for many many years,
    It's outlived kings and presidents, It's outlived earls and peers,
    It outlived Marilyn Monroe, It outlived Jimmy Dean,
    It outlived Freddie Mercury the queen who sang with Queen.

    They drink the wine in Africa, they drink the wine in France,
    They'd drink it in Arabia if given half the chance,
    They drink it on the Shankill Road they drink it in Ardoyne'
    King Billy had a bottle at the battle of the Boyne.

    The Buckfast is a wine of peace for Catholic and for Prod,
    You can drink it if you're Rocker you can drink it if you're Mod,
    You can drink it if you're gay or straight or yellow black or white,
    You can use the empty bottle if the peelers want a fight.

    In all four corners of the world the Buckfast wine is sold,
    The monks are raking in the dough, It's just like liquid gold,
    Some spend their cash on fancy cars, some spend their cash on sweets,
    A lot gets spent on laundry bills to clean their crispy sheets.

    The head monks name was Dominic and he was ninety four,
    One day they found old Dominic stone cold upon the floor,
    They called the undertaker but they told him "take your time",
    Old Dominic embalmed himself by drinking Buckfast wine.

    The monks all like to pic-nic when the day is bright and warm,
    Though when the wine is in them they would pic-nic in a storm,
    They sit upon the fresh green grass and they begin to dine,
    On eighty bags of Monster Munch and twenty crates of wine.

    The Abbey had a gardener, his name was brother Gus,
    He had a nasty accident while running for a bus,
    His legs were amputated but he really didn't mind,
    Cause he always ends up legless when he drinks the Buckfast wine.

    To be a Buckfast Abbey monk you must be pure and true,
    You can't smoke funny cigarettes, you can't go sniffing glue,
    You're not allowed to swear or curse you can't be on the take,
    But unlike in a sperm bank you can drink the stuff you make.

    The Buckfast monks returned from war in 1945,
    Though some of them were blown to bits the rest came back alive,
    They never ever fired a gun, they used the wine instead,
    While Hitlers troops were lying pissed the allies shot them dead.

    Though you may think the Buckfast monks have life down to a tee,
    The monking life is very hard, It's tough believe you me,
    They work their fingers to the bone in sackcloth, robes and shawl,
    I know that some wear pin stripe suits, just some though not them all.

    So when you buy some Buckfast wine please stop and spare a thought,
    Remember those who slaved away to make the wine you bought,
    Just close your eyes then bow your head and give them full respect,
    Then crack the bottle open mate and get it down your neck!

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