We played our game high in the heavens
If the ball took a lump we were stumped
We were five on each side, not eleven
And our ref? Was a no nonsense nun!
You’d to be weary of a tear up, with them sisters
Watching frantic wild games like a hawk
Manys the time we had blisters
Via a caning from those hands of the Lord.
Our poor folks, never had much dinero
So a school football kit woz a dream
Our expections had hovered near zero
Till the nuns scrounged, ten shirts for our team.
One’s monicker on the school notice board
Guaranteed fame for the oncoming week
You were walking on air, elavated by football
Raised up in yer classmates esteem.
I’ll always remember that day we set off to play
On a coach trip to Battersea Park
Our convent had never sent a team out before
We were thrilled to the core with excitement.
Did we win? At a canter, quite easily
That first game we played, we scored four
To be honest our goals crept in eerily
As if the nuns got in touch with Our Lord.
Fair plays what the sisters instilled in us
And getting beat or to draw ain’t no sin
But if them nuns had a nice few quid laid out on us
By God they expected to win!