As London draws closer, they sleep on the bus,
With many fans wondering, what on Earth was the fuss.

The game started slowly, with Routledge a threat,
To place Chelsea in the final then, would be an unsafe bet.

For everyone's pleasure, no.9 on the bench,
But the performance still sucked, and left a large stench.

Half time changed nothing, not even a fresh face,
Not even Robbie could be our saving grace.

Swansea were resolute, despite not being tall,
With a ball boy taking to twitter, to show off his crystal ball.

Rafa had nothing, Marco said he couldn't teach,
He proved him right, by putting the cup out of reach.

But not before Hazard! Who became resident prat,
By kicking a ball boy, who appeared quite fat.

The stadium erupted, then Chris Foy struck,
Where was our hero? Stuck at West Brom. Fuck.

We could blame the ball boy, his acting was rookie,
Perhaps Eden should have offered a cookie.

The Rafa-lution continues, he must think he's Galileo,
But inside the Bridge, they still call for Di Matteo.