The crumbling stand, the rusty nails
That held the wooden planks in place,
The grassy banks behind both goals
From where we watched the title race.
The peeling paint stripped to reveal
The previous season’s tale of woe,
The Shed from where our anthems rang
From “Champions” to “Here We Go”.
Drain pipes leaking, gutters cracked,
Uneven sleepers we’d laid down,
Rounded barriers holding back
The fans of City, Vics and Town.
Now concrete slabs surround the pitch.
Our ground is new but grey and bland,
Victim of a grading scheme
That cost the club a million grand.
The echoes of a distant past
Now lie subdued, our choir will die.
Each song is lost, each shout unheard
-Buried in a concrete pie.
The Unibard (Barry Lenton)