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Joe stood in the sacred sactuary
That’s known as “The Shed”
Taking in the match
But decked out in the uniform
Of the U.S confederacy
Isn’t that a little O.T.T?
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But when you’ve a fancy dress party
To go to later that night
With no time to go home to change
Who cares what you wear when you go the match
Thats why no-one battered an eyelid up in “The Shed”
As all eyes were on the game!
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Joe’s ma and da have died eighteen times
May their souls now rest in peace
It seems that every time Chelsea
Have an important away tie in one of the cups
Joe’s parents get re-deceased!
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His guvnor must be one hell of a gent
To accomodate Joe’s woe
But to catch Fairport Convention gigs
And Chelsea games on the back of a death
May seem a trifle morbid to the likes of you and me
But it matters not a jot to Joe!