About Stick Jocks

Bangor

There you stand, your sticks in hand
trying to enter my fairytale fantasy land

you can't get there with a feint
a spin, a tap, or 4 ounces of great

We sit by the fire and tell our tale
you must not like fire, or it's smell

oil without vinegar, you can't be topped
laughing with glee, we are all sopped .

So stand at the gate, tall and proud
you the greatest, your head in the clouds