“What A Load Of Rubbish!”
¶ 1
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They say back in the day in Bermondsey
A sack of spuds could wear a red rosette
And Labour would still be elected
It was such a safe bet.
Such blind loyalty is how I feel
About some of our ‘New-veau’ fans
Almost as if they don’t seem bothered
By our under-achieving fancy dans.
Some seemed a bit disappointed
When the team didn’t give them a clap
Perhaps they were just too embarrassed
Ashamed after spineless gutless crap.
The final whistle’s gone
Chanting like lemmings behind the goal
Sycophantically backing the team
Is that really my role?
Ninety minutes are over
What’s wrong with telling the truth
A burst of “What a load of rubbish!”
Bouncing off the Lewes roof.
There’s nothing wrong with loyalty
But love shouldn’t make you blind
Where’s that boo or two at the final whistle
You have to be cruel to be kind.
I’m writing this in anger
The score’s ruined the rest of my week
But I’ll pick myself up on Saturday
And hope the next game’s not so bleak.
I’m used to being let down
It’s part of being a Dulwich Hamlet fan
Something we all have to deal with
In any way we can.
At least I’m not a Clapton Ultra
Which is the definition of bleak
Being forced to watch mediocrity
In the Essex Senior League every week.
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