There’s a new boss at the Palace
In his heart he’s still a Blade
Has he gained a poisoned chalice?
We know Neil, he ain’t afraid
He’ll do some wheelin’ and dealin’
Prima donnas he dislikes
Can’t stand their constant squealin’
So he’ll send them on their bikes
He’ll put opponents in their place
He’ll keep players on their toes
Warnock just gets in your face
And halfway up your nose.
He ain’t no friend of referees
He’s often left perplexed
When their decisions do not please
He’ll offer them his specs
He’ll wind the Press up every week
Their questions aren’t refused
With tongue stuck firmly in his cheek
They end up more confused
So he hopes to wave his magic wand
And revive the Selhurst roar
Perhaps the players will respond
And the Eagles might just soar.
Since the glory days of Bright & Wright
They’ve hardly won a thing
If Neil ensures a future bright
‘Glad all Over’ they will sing.