I just want a player who’s good at his job,
Doesn’t throw money at you, doesn’t shoot from his gob.
I don’t want a brand, an icon, a face,
I just want a forward who’s in the right place.
No big-mouthed night clubber, out seeking “the life”
A player who’s home nights, with children and wife.
Someone not obsessed with fast cars or fame,
A player who plays for the love of the game.
Oh, make a few quid, live a life free from rain,
But don’t ram it down my throat time and again.
Be happy, content, chase the National Shirt,
But don’t be so arrogant, or fans you will hurt.
The fans who, week in and week out, with their rages,
Put their bums on seats, bums that pay your vast wages.
Just give something back, with no cameras in view,
Give back to the game, because you want to.
And just don’t forget, as you draw this week’s pay,
One day, it’ll end.