Make Mine La Guerre

Let me just say first of all, I wrote this one nearly twenty years ago and only today remembered the words for it.  It's not great but it's harmless nonsense.

Make Mine La Guerre

“He's moved his pawn to e4”

Goes the plaintive cry.

Spectators stamp upon the floor

And wait for the reply.

“Pawn played to e6”

Murmured along the bench.

“Does he know no other tricks

Than defence with the French?”

After the next two openers,

“Will white have a bash

At Advanced or Winawer?

Or will it be Tarrasch?”

“Tarrasch!” the howl reverberates

Across the smoke-filled hall;

And still the watchers sit and wait

The outcome of it all.

The play develops further

With trap and counter-ploy

Until at last a blunder

Comes from one po-faced boy.

The onlookers clap their hands.

“Quiet!” screams the ref

For its mate in five and

Black's king moves to his death.

Black continues valiantly,

Unto the bitter end.

But its white, triumphantly,

Who they homeward send.