They say a footballers life’s now slavery,
god I wish I felt their pain
like I did when tackled from behind
the reason I walk now with a cane.
Cortisone was my drug of choice
it helped me play each game
little did I know then
that the effects would leave me lame
Flair was the strong point of my game
all swerves and shoulder dips
but now I have the price to pay
as I wait to get new hips.
We roasted our defenders
no twenty two man squads
and when we reached our sell by dates
it was back to docks and hods.
Metatarsal was near Sunderland
well that’s what we’d have thought
and every high ball in the box
by our keeper it was caught.
We defended both our goal posts,
we had men out on both wings
and when we saw fans on the bus
they treated us like kings.
We charged nowt for an autograph,
we were privileged just to sign,
we all just thanked our lucky stars
that we weren’t working down the mine.
A beach ball was not used back then,
and we weren’t scared of the mud
and yellow cards weren’t given
for every little thud.
There was no such thing as diving
or tearing off our shirts
and no running crying to the ref
when you got kicked where it hurts.
We played for love of the game
money wasn’t the main reason
the most I made in a playing year
was 5 grand in my last season
In my local town I don’t pay for drinks
they still recall v Leeds my goal
but every Thursday afternoon
I still sign on for the dole.
So as I line up in the solemn queue
with some characters unsavory
I wish I was playing in the prem
being a part of legal slavery