There’s angry words in boozers
Along the Fulham Road
The boy was worshipped by us Blues
Still…. we went and let him go.
Fans said “It’s down to money”
And “He’s past his sell by date”
Me. I always find fans funny
On how quick we are to slate.
“Can’t defend, can’t tackle
Never once comes back”
Stars like Joey won’t be shackled
He’ll tear forward and attack.
Jose nearly tore his hair out
Watching Joey down the wing
He would yell at subs”get warmed up now”
Then he’d reign our Joey in.
When he did those tricks
Us mortals, only dream of with a ball
He was “The Academy” star out on our pitch*
Now he’s off to Liverpool.
He was idolised in London
Both at Bolyne or The Bridge
Paid for Peter Brabrooks operation
Amongst other good deeds he did.
A natural on a football pitch
Plays the game like in the street
He’ll take heavy tackles on the chin
Then revenge them oh so sweet.
Are there many out there in the game
Who can glide past men and mug ’em’
Sterile boring game plans of today
Mean Joey Cole’s are small in number.
Joey’s back heel at Old Trafford
Said: The Premiersip Is Ours!”
Left a Red nosed knight embarrassed
Midst a fast departing crowd.
Me. I’ll miss the boy tremendously
He’ll do well for them up there
And I’ve a feeling deep inside of me
Joey Cole will come back to haunt us
And …. nip us on our derriere!
So farewell Joe and mind how you go
And I hope we’re still yer mates
When it’s time to go back to The Smoke
Make sure you score… Down The Lane or The Emirates!