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Working Class Football

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 As soon as you’re born you’ve chosen your club
And you go with your Dad meet your mates at the pub
And you give it your heart and your soul and your love
Working class football is something to be
Agents like sharks they are circling the bones
In their bling doing deals on their new mobile phones
But they don’t give a s**t you’ll be walking alone
Working class football was something to be
There’s money in football they are telling us still
But who stops the bailiffs who come in to kill
Don’t look to the sky for an Oligarch’s will
Working class football can no longer be
You think it’s forever this club you belong
And you’re bound in its bricks and its stones and its songs
But they’re busy dismantling, and it’s all f*****g wrong
Working class football, rest in peace.

6

Notes

nod to Bury Fc and Bolton Wanderers Fc; they will not be the last.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/working-class-football/