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Like a driver rubbernecking
At a nasty roadside crash,
There’s a certain fascination in our plight.
The lights may be headwrecking
As incessantly they flash,
But the crowds still gather round the gruesome sight.
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Less than two short months ago
We had triumphed in the League,
Celebrating well-deserved success.
We were swept up in the flow
Though suff’ring badly from fatigue,
For we’d done the business under great duress.
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But then the utter joy was laid up
As the rumours picked up speed
Referring to our grim financial woes.
The wages were not paid up
As the contracts had decreed
And players left for Pats and Drogs and Bohs.
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The out-of-contract players
Then were patted on the back
And shown the door that leads onto the street.
We need much more than prayers
To return into the black –
No promises could keep the faithful sweet.
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The drip turned to a torrent-
Aye, the exodus began,
Every day the squad got less and less.
Each day was quite abhorrent,
Someone new turned tail and ran,
Among the speculation by the press.
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For us, its quite heartbreaking,
We no longer have a team,
The season just a few short weeks away.
Perhaps we’ll soon be waking
From this most horrendous dream
And find we’re still giants of the day.