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So when Saturday comes, where will you be?
At home in your armchair, watching TV?
Are you part of the prawn sandwich brigade?
Whose interest and enthusiasm quickly fade?
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It’s easy to support, when the team does well
Funny how suddenly the crowd numbers swell
Some like to bask in the reflected glory
We’ve seen it before; it’s the same old story
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And when things take a turn for the worse
They all can’t wait to moan and curse
“I saw this coming!” “The team is useless!”
“Why do I bother?” “I deserve better than this!”
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The true loyalty in football, is the bond that ties
the real fan to his club. That never dies
He is not fickle, that genuine supporter
He’ll support his team through hell or high water
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The club belongs to him, part of his soul
It hurts like hell when they concede a goal
That union is like a Dad and wayward child
That makes him so happy, so proud or so wild
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So which one are you, the true or fickle fan?
When Saturday comes, where will you stand?
With us on the terraces or be one of those
At the checkout counter, down at Tescos?
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If you are at the ground, will you moan and bitch
about what is going on, out on the pitch?
Or will you all try to get behind the side?
It is your choice; down to you to decide
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So when Saturday comes, we may win or get beat
A loss will be desperate; a victory so sweet
But the one thing I’m sure, I can safely declare
Is that the loyal supporters will all be there