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There’s a football club supporter to the north of the Watford gap
Holds a little marble cross for Ipswich town.
There’s a broken-hearted woman spends her weekends all alone;
And the premier league forever gazes down
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It’s a cross he has to bear; but he doesn’t seem to care,
For he’s madder than I feel inclined to tell.
Coming from the Isle of Wight, its fair comment that one might
Have assumed he’d cheer Southampton at the Dell.
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He has loved them all along, with conviction (right or wrong)!
And has always kept his eye upon the ball
They did well when he was 10; but went off the ball again
And for several years did nothing much at all.
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But children are contrary: he’s an Ipswich fan for life,
Even though the club once more is staying down.
As a mum, I’m sympathetic; but heaven help the wife
Of this broken man weeps for Ipswich town