Nerves all jittery and fraught
Fingernails all chewed to the quick
This is the lot of the football fan
End of the season can make you feel sick.
One minute you’re staying up
The next you’re going down
That smile you had on your face
Now replaced by a miserable frown.
With mobiles flashing up scores
And radios pressed to one’s ear
It’s either going to be bubbly champagne
Or crying into a pint of flat beer.
No time for a sun drenched vacation
Gardening, Fishing, or a spot of D.I.Y.
This is a really serious matter
But it’s only football I hear them cry.
Try saying that to the weary supporter
Who follows his team home and away
When faced with the dreaded relegation
Drops to his knees to pray.
She’s threatened to pack her bags
Go back home to her mum and dad
But the thought of relegation
Is what’s really making you sad.
At last you know your team’s fate
You’re not going down after all
So when the celebrations finally stop
I’d better go and give the lady a call !