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Deontay Wilder's windmills of the ring
Flailing like a man on fire, like a tormented buffoon,
Rarely finding any target, thrown by a demented loon,
Like a blow that's aimed at heaven or a punch to outer space,
Like a spinning arm that's aimed where boxers used to have their face,
Like a West Indies fast bowler who is tripping off his ****,
As the trainer hides his face and the poor cornerman's in bits,
Like the most ridiculous thing, Wilder's windmills of the ring,
Like a man who learned his boxing from a youtube video,
From a manual that's been written in a language he don't know,
Like a mime artist that's scaring all the watching crowd away,
Using semaphore that's saying something nobody should say,
As you realise he's tried to land a punch upon his foe,
And his feet are heading somewhere that no boxer's feet should go,
Oh what joy the sight doth bring, Wilder's windmills of the ring,
Now Bronze Bomber's on the warpath and the ref is looking scared,
Sure he came to ref a fight but for this **** he ain't prepared,
Cause the blows could easily hit him it's a matter but of chance,
A punch that Wilder threw in Belgium could land in Holland or in France,
Now the crowd are in a panic should a blow land in their face,
They begin to flee the stadium and a rush turns to a race,
Still the windmill keeps on turning blowing judges off their arse,
And the man that rings the bell has given up its such a farce,
Like a turbine in an engine, Like a hamster on a wheel,
It's not boxing as we know it no this ****'s a different deal,
As the final bell does ding, and as one the headlines sing,
Of Wilder's Windmills of the ring....
If you hadn't guessed to the tune of:
Oh and finally, relax it's just a bit of fun...
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