I'm not sure if everyone else is bored enough to contribute songs, but here are 3 efforts from me.
A Youtube link of te native song, and my version underneath. Yes a few months ago, i could have never believed i'd be this bored with the footy a few days after the round 2 date.
Anyway............
Title: DON'T TAKE YOUR BOOTS TO TOWN JEZZ
A young boy named Jeremy Cameron grew restless on the farm
A boy filled with wonderlust who really meant no harm
He changed his clothes and shined his boots
And combed his dark hair down
And his mother cried as he walked out
Don't take your boots to town son
Leave your boots at home Jezz
Don't take your boots to town
He laughed and kissed his mom
And said your son is now a man
I can juimp as high and kick as straight as anybody can
look at the size of my paws
I'll pull big marks down
But she cried again as he rode away
Don't take your boots to town son
Leave your boots at home Jezz
Don't take your boots to town
He sang a song as on he strode
His boots hung at his hips
He strode into the MCG
A smile upon his lips
He stopped and walked into the square
Then he saw Grimesy walk on down
His mother's words echoed again
Don't take your boots to town son
Leave your boots at home Jezz
Don't take your boots to town
The ball was bounced and he chewed his nails to calm his shaking hand
And tried to tell himself again had become a man
The winemaker from Macedon began to laugh him down
And he heard again his mothers words
Don't take your boots to town son
Leave your boots at home Jezz
Don't take your boots to town
Filled with rage as the ball came in
Jezza led to mark the ball
But the winemaker from macedon intercepted before he even saw
As jezza fell to the ground
team mates all gathered 'round
And wondered at his mumbled words
Don't take your boots to town son
Leave your boots at home jezz
Don't take your boots to town
===========================================================================
Title: FAT BOY ON OUR RANGE
An old Ruckman named Mumford strode onto the G grand final day
Upon a flank he strutted as he went along his way
When all at once a mighty pack of red eyed mids he saw
A-plowing through from the centre square, thundering down on him full bore.
They were breathing fire, muscles made of steel
Their gernseys were black and yella and their hot breath he could feel
A bolt of fear went through him as Trent Cotchin mowed him down
Picked him up and slammed him head first into the hallowed ground
Yippie yi yaaaay
Yippie yi ohhhhh
Trent cotchin on the prowl
Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred, their bodies soaked with sweat
Many have tried to escape this pack but none have managed yet
'Cause this is their range under a September sky
On legs as fit as steeds
As they run on hear their fearless cry
As mummy picked grass from his teeth he heard one call his name
If you want to save your arse, keep it off our f$%£ing range
Because if you don't fat boy,
We'll hunt you down and give you more pain
And Prestia will rub your face into our hallowed turf again
Yippie yi yaaaay
Yippie yi ohhhhh
Trent cotchin on the prowl
Trent cotchin on the prowl
Trent cotchin on the prowl
=============================================================================
THE FLOG
When Dustin Martin strode the G
Women folk would sigh
When Dustin Martin strode the G
The men would step aside
Cause the butt of his hand was the only law
That Dustin ever knew
When it came to dealing out the Don'T Argue
He was mighty good
From out of te east a midget came
A law book in his hand
Deluded with the belief
that it was him filling the stands
But the butt of his hand was the only law
That Dusty understood
When it came to dealing out the Don'T Argue
He was mighty good
Many a man stood in his way
And many a man did fall
The maggot who penalised Dustin Martin
He 50m penaltied Dustin Martin
He was the greatest flog of them all
The love of his reflection can make a flog stay on
When he should go, stay on
Blowin his whistle repeatedly
Where otherwise the game would flow
But the butt of his hand was the only law
That Dusty understood
When it came to dealing out the Don'T Argue
He was mighty good
Alone and afraid the lawman stood
on that fateful day, oh that day
When Dustin shot him that glare
And gave him a fearful spray
From the moment Razor Ray blew that whistle
The very first thing he learned
Don't *smile* yourself down your leg
Because urine tends to burn
Everyone heard two pops ring out
As Razor filled his strides
The flog who pooped in front of Dustin Martin
He pooped in front of Dustin Martin
It was the smelliest of them all
The man who Sh!te in front of Dustin Martin
He pooped in front of Dustin Martin
He was a smelly little FLOGGGGG
A Youtube link of te native song, and my version underneath. Yes a few months ago, i could have never believed i'd be this bored with the footy a few days after the round 2 date.
Anyway............
Title: DON'T TAKE YOUR BOOTS TO TOWN JEZZ
A young boy named Jeremy Cameron grew restless on the farm
A boy filled with wonderlust who really meant no harm
He changed his clothes and shined his boots
And combed his dark hair down
And his mother cried as he walked out
Don't take your boots to town son
Leave your boots at home Jezz
Don't take your boots to town
He laughed and kissed his mom
And said your son is now a man
I can juimp as high and kick as straight as anybody can
look at the size of my paws
I'll pull big marks down
But she cried again as he rode away
Don't take your boots to town son
Leave your boots at home Jezz
Don't take your boots to town
He sang a song as on he strode
His boots hung at his hips
He strode into the MCG
A smile upon his lips
He stopped and walked into the square
Then he saw Grimesy walk on down
His mother's words echoed again
Don't take your boots to town son
Leave your boots at home Jezz
Don't take your boots to town
The ball was bounced and he chewed his nails to calm his shaking hand
And tried to tell himself again had become a man
The winemaker from Macedon began to laugh him down
And he heard again his mothers words
Don't take your boots to town son
Leave your boots at home Jezz
Don't take your boots to town
Filled with rage as the ball came in
Jezza led to mark the ball
But the winemaker from macedon intercepted before he even saw
As jezza fell to the ground
team mates all gathered 'round
And wondered at his mumbled words
Don't take your boots to town son
Leave your boots at home jezz
Don't take your boots to town
===========================================================================
Title: FAT BOY ON OUR RANGE
An old Ruckman named Mumford strode onto the G grand final day
Upon a flank he strutted as he went along his way
When all at once a mighty pack of red eyed mids he saw
A-plowing through from the centre square, thundering down on him full bore.
They were breathing fire, muscles made of steel
Their gernseys were black and yella and their hot breath he could feel
A bolt of fear went through him as Trent Cotchin mowed him down
Picked him up and slammed him head first into the hallowed ground
Yippie yi yaaaay
Yippie yi ohhhhh
Trent cotchin on the prowl
Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred, their bodies soaked with sweat
Many have tried to escape this pack but none have managed yet
'Cause this is their range under a September sky
On legs as fit as steeds
As they run on hear their fearless cry
As mummy picked grass from his teeth he heard one call his name
If you want to save your arse, keep it off our f$%£ing range
Because if you don't fat boy,
We'll hunt you down and give you more pain
And Prestia will rub your face into our hallowed turf again
Yippie yi yaaaay
Yippie yi ohhhhh
Trent cotchin on the prowl
Trent cotchin on the prowl
Trent cotchin on the prowl
=============================================================================
THE FLOG
When Dustin Martin strode the G
Women folk would sigh
When Dustin Martin strode the G
The men would step aside
Cause the butt of his hand was the only law
That Dustin ever knew
When it came to dealing out the Don'T Argue
He was mighty good
From out of te east a midget came
A law book in his hand
Deluded with the belief
that it was him filling the stands
But the butt of his hand was the only law
That Dusty understood
When it came to dealing out the Don'T Argue
He was mighty good
Many a man stood in his way
And many a man did fall
The maggot who penalised Dustin Martin
He 50m penaltied Dustin Martin
He was the greatest flog of them all
The love of his reflection can make a flog stay on
When he should go, stay on
Blowin his whistle repeatedly
Where otherwise the game would flow
But the butt of his hand was the only law
That Dusty understood
When it came to dealing out the Don'T Argue
He was mighty good
Alone and afraid the lawman stood
on that fateful day, oh that day
When Dustin shot him that glare
And gave him a fearful spray
From the moment Razor Ray blew that whistle
The very first thing he learned
Don't *smile* yourself down your leg
Because urine tends to burn
Everyone heard two pops ring out
As Razor filled his strides
The flog who pooped in front of Dustin Martin
He pooped in front of Dustin Martin
It was the smelliest of them all
The man who Sh!te in front of Dustin Martin
He pooped in front of Dustin Martin
He was a smelly little FLOGGGGG