A postman joined our team and we
Felt things were getting better.
The manager’s instructions, he
Would follow to the letter.
He’d watch the post at corner kicks,
Like any good defender,
Addressing threats between the sticks,
Returning balls to sender.
The records for our league were smashed,
And all required revamping,
But he was most severely lashed,
When ordered off for stamping.
Eventually the goals dried up,
Just like a shallow river,
And in the third round of the Cup,
He failed to deliver.