Goodbye Ginger rose;
Though you never grew in our hearts.
You grew in other places Particularly your gut.
You ran like a headless chicken,
And so often caused us pain.
Now you belong to Devon,
And the ‘stars' spell out your name.
And it seems to me you play football
With a candle up your arse
Never doing the obvious Or ‘owt decent at all.
And your footsteps will again fall here,
among Scunny's greenest hills;
You might want to put one over on us
But you know you never will.
Though you never grew in our hearts.
You grew in other places Particularly your gut.
You ran like a headless chicken,
And so often caused us pain.
Now you belong to Devon,
And the ‘stars' spell out your name.
And it seems to me you play football
With a candle up your arse
Never doing the obvious Or ‘owt decent at all.
And your footsteps will again fall here,
among Scunny's greenest hills;
You might want to put one over on us
But you know you never will.
And you thought he supported Watford.
Up The Iron
PS. Surely Sven has to pick Beagrie for that tricky left sided position, it's only a matter of time.