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April 17, 2012
Like dumbstruck dudes we stood and watched
Our team coach pull away
Then slunk back to our waiting cars
And headed towards the motorway
The long ride home would seem longer still
We felt as sick as hell
Our side had lost another ‘dead cert’
Though our top player did quite well.
But a one man team, without support
Is not the key to success.
So we’ll struggle on as best we can
As our finances are in a mess.
The ‘transfer deadline’ came and went
As all hope of fresh faces faded.
If we lose next week to the bottom club
I feel our pitch will be invaded!
It’s not a joke, it’s just not on.
We scrimp and save all season.
So it’s no wonder we feel gutted
When we lose without good reason
To sack the manager would cost good money
That the club truly hasn’t got.
So with a golden handshake out of the question
Our season’s not looking too hot.
The thrill of being in the top flight
Has been short lived, to say the least.
We need to win our next ten games
And turn this goal famine into a feast.
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