They’ll never know how much we love ’em.
Never know how much we care.
But when they step out on the Hallowed Turf,
We get a feeling that’s beyond compare.
They give us Fever, in the p.m.,
Fever under bright floodlights.
Mild Fever in Pink or Yellow,
High Fever in Blue and White.
Listen all you Koppites,
Hear these words we have to say:
We don’t really care about your Silverware,
Cos next year a Trophy’s coming our way!
Yes, we’ve seen it, in the tea leaves,
Tarot cards and crystal balls.
Trophy, when next May comes,
Or might as well throw in the towel.
Sun shines bright in morning,
Stars shine clear at night.
Our eyes lit up when we won the Cup,
Just a shame it was in Ninety-Five!
It gave us Fever, down at Wembley,
Fever up on Merseyside,
Fever the whole world o’er,
As Evertonians glowed with pride.
Pin your ears back now, Nick Hornby,
We have read your Fever Pitch –
Nice insights on the Game we love,
But the Arsenal we don’t really dig…
Don’t give us Fever, at the Library,
Nor up here at Goodison.
Fever? Oh, forget it,
There’s really nothing to be done.
Listen all you fans of Citeh,
Tottenham, Chelsea and Man U,
A Grand Old Team’s set for a re-launch,
So look out, cos we’re a-comin’ for you!
We’ll give ya Fever, when we press you.
Fever when we keep it tight.
Fever when we score that…
Winning goal in Fergie Time!
Denys E. W. Jones