In fair Manchester's City abode,
A tale of historic triumph is sowed,
Where Champions conquered, for all to behold,
The valiant Milanese faltered, the City rose bold.

Upon yonder distant Canuck shore,
A grounded Russian bird, confined to explore,
In endless nights of winter, it wearily stayed,
By fate or folly, its wings were cumbered and frayed.

From the Eastern realm, a cloak of whispers appear,
A clandestine tale, of secret doings, and fear,
In the land of the Cuban crest,
A spying nest, the White House professed.

by Conchobar mac Dubhthach

a centaur