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A stiff bracing breeze, floating off, of the Thames
Was soothing to the Fulham home crowd
In the days when Malcolm Supermac had intentions
Of constructing a new side from nowt.
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“The Cottage” that day was heaving
Getting right behind the boys, as you do
So what happened next, may take some believing
Though I’m assured by me spies, it’s the truth.
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A young naieve pro, gave away a soft goal
And was face down in mud, quite distraught
When this crescendo of abuse came from below the roof
Of “The Cottage”, from the Fulham support.
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“Yer taking the Michael, call yerself a footballer?
I’ve seen better, playing over “The Scrubs”*
That clearance, you tried, should’ve gone in the water
We should have stayed where it’s warm, down the pub.
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Put the sub out there, right now MacDonald
Let that doughnut stay put on the bench
Even I could have told yer that kid’s got no promise
He’d be a danger if he had any sense”.
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Another woeful attempt at a clearance
Got the foghorn to start up again
I’ve heard said there were some in the home end
Glance t’ward the river for a crash on The Thames!
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“Get him out of there, sub him,
That’s twice that they’ve mugged him
We’ve forked out, hard earned money to watch this
That young centre back’s useless
And his football brain, clueless
Whilst MacDonald, yer as guilty as he is”.
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Well. A few minutes passed,
As some questions were asked
Then the coppers came back, looking glum.
Seems that heckler in “The Cottage”
Who’d been heard, collared and spotted
Was none other than the centreback’s….MUM!