Our lads played with courage, with passion and pride,
Was the kind of performance that warms you inside,
We controlled the possession, dictated the play,
The fact they scored seven? Just a bad day.
No they weren’t quicker, just we were too slow,
And as everyone knows, it’s a tough place to go,
The ball boys are naughty, the ref’s on their side,
We prefer it to rain, but it’s lovely outside.
Now we’re stuck at the bottom and fighting the drop,
But if points were for effort we’d be right up the top,
We beat ourselves, they didn’t beat us,
They smashed in seven, then parked the bus.
On a pitch smooth and silky, of course they played better,
But bring ‘em to ours where it’s rocky and wetter,
Away teams are lucky to get out alive,
And our fans don’t wear clothes ‘less it’s minus five.
No we weren’t lacking desire and bravery,
And for 10 grand a day? Well, it’s practically slavery,
We’re a bold, dashing side, with invention and flair,
Tanned glossy thighs, and long golden hair.
I simply can’t question the boys’ heart and soul,
They just need to score more in the OTHER team’s goal,
We’re working on passing and shooting and movement,
Was 8-0 last week, so a marked improvement.
On their lad’s broken leg, yes, that’s always a shame,
And he’ll probably never be quite the same,
But perhaps it’s a measure of where the game’s gone,
‘cause back in my day, he’d get up and play on.
Now I’m sure you’ll all busy, so time to wrap up,
We’ve a big midweek game in the who cares cup,
I predict in the future we might actually win,
But for now, I could sure use an extra-large gin.