From: Gid Holyoake
To the tune of "The Irish Rover":
In the year of our lord nineteen ninety and eight
They all set out for Liverpool town.
There were some from the South, who were seen coming up,
There were some from the North coming down.
There were some from the East, and some from the West,
They came from the whole world over.
With their badges of green, they were oft to be seen,
They were called a Convention Gopher!
They sat on some chairs by the doors of the Drum
'Til some help was required, now and then.
And the chap in control of the old Gopher's hole
Was an upstanding fellow named Ben.
But when they were done, they shot off, like a gun,
To the main lounge's comfy sofas.
With a massage of feet, their day's work was complete.
Ah, the life of Convention Gophers!
Gid
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