The Famed Linwood wine team song!

Here it is! The Wine Team song! Sung by Drunken Linwood and sober Linwood players alike. Now you too, Can sing along....

We dont drink the whisky and we dont drink the gin,

We dont drink the vodka with the Lemonade in,

We wont say no to a Bristol Cream.

Cos WE ARE THE LINWOOD WINE TEAM!

(Chorus) La Da Ra Ra Da etc,etc...

WE ARE THE LINWOOD WINE TEAM!

When the captain says'how do you do?'

In the morning buy a bottle of Brew

During the game we're always fu'

Cos WE ARE THE LINWOOD WINE TEAM!

(Repeat Chorus)

The Second team captain's Andy McDade

He's underworked and hes over paid

He's got no pals and he never gets laid!

Cos hes in the Linwood wine team!

(Repeat chorus until Arrested or just get fed up)

above is the Club song from Linwood Rugby club in Scotland and it was taught to the Linwood players in Linwood, New Zealand recently by our roving Webmaster Ian Young. They passed on their song to Ian so this is the song that Linwood, New Zealand sing along with....

Dogs Bollocks.

We are the boys from Linwood Bollocks.

We are the best team in the land.

When it comes to fornication

We never need to use our hand.

2nd verse.

When we meet an old age pensioner.

Teenage girls they do no harm

We Ram it in! (captain,coach)

We Ram it in! (Team)

We Ram it in! (Cap,Coach)

We Ram it in! (Team)

Showing off true bollocks charm

3rd verse

From the southside of the Waimak

To the North of Summer Seas

We have left a trail of Bastards and venerial disease.

We're a dirty load of bastards

as we roam from Club to pub

Rejoicing in the title

of the dogs bollocks rugby club!

A Lovely wee Scottish poem.....

Ode to English rugby...From the 1999 6 nations match V Scotland..

Ye come up here tae paradise, tae beat us at your game,

Aw' wind and piss and full o' shit, Yer aw the bloody same,

Ye caw yersels the champions, the nations most elite,

Scotland are the champions, Yuv just been fuckin' beat.

A game that wis invented, fur English gentlemen,

No Highland Jocks we tartan frocks, well bliddy think again,

A baw that's shapit like an egg, it's jist a stupit farse,

A s'pose it maks it easier, tae ram right up yer arse.

So git back hame an lick yer wounds, yer a bunch o' stupit fools,

It's time fur you tae cheat again, change the fuckin' rules,

Rugby, fitba, cricket tae, yer jist a shower o' chancers,

Stick tae whit ye dae the best, you morris fuckin' dancers.