We’ve got a head of steam up
We’re racing up the league
We’re in a groove and out of that rut
Of feeling tired and fatigued.
Every turnstile click says welcome
Why the Bovrils almost hot
Our seats have a velvet cushion on ’em’
Umm…… Better scrub that, maybe not?
The programme sellers beaming
The hot dog blokes the same
As this winning fires up everything
With an optimistic flame.
This bird in front of me is blushing
Her man on cue has kissed her cheek
We’ve seen rituals of the sweetest love,
As the game kicks off, to prolong our winning streak.
Every back heel finds a team-mate
Each debated call seems ours
Why our fate of late is just so ace
We could watch a game for hours.
Half-time used to worry us
Where the dreaded cup of tea
Seemed as if it was laced with a drug
Which would sap our energy.
Why even the refs are for us
The amount of pens we’ve had
Has helped our cause enormously
In climbing up the ladder.
I hope this run can last forever
And our blinding winning streak is long
It’s kinda bought us all together
Both off the field and on.
So who’re we playing Wednesday
I can hardly wait to see it?
What!!”£$%^ You say there’s an International friendly?
So there’s no league game this mid-week?