1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 I’m a ex premiership footballer
Who’s now on skid row
But just how I arrived here
I really dont know.
Seventy Five grand a week
When I played for the Mags
Luxury appartments and a selection of jags.
Down in the Bigg Market
Ordering crates of champagne
To help drown my sorrows
When the TOON lost again.
Soon out of the black ( n white)
And into the red
The cash and the bubbles, went straight to my head.
And the very next morning
In the cold light of dawn
Straight round to the cash point
But I’m well overdrawn.
Then the lucrative gravy train
Suddenly ground to a halt
Next stop relegation, but it wasn’t my fault
Their were plenty of others
Who rode on that train
And gave little in return for financial gain.



The news that a certain ex premiership striker
struggled to make ends meet on a reported 75 grand a week
just confirms what my dear mam used to say ‘Fools and their gold are soon parted’.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/overated-overdrawn/