Song for Simon ... To the tune of "We don't talk anymore" by Cliff Richard: Used to think we played to feet, Used to think we were so complete, I can't believe you'd throw it away. Used to feel we had a chance, Never thought we would be so pants, Can you imagine how I feel today, Well it seems a long time ago - that we were playing well, Then we signed super Dwayne - who can’t play with his bell, He’s worse than Richard Kell. It's so funny how we don't score anymore, It's so funny why we can’t play anymore, We’re all losing sleep - and Gord’s counting sheep, It's so funny how we don't score anymore. Well it really doesn't matter to Gord, Don’t think he’ll ever fall on his sword, The fans are stupid – they’re “outside the game”, Well I hope they’ve got a business plan - for playing in League One, And don't come crying to us - when all the crowds have gone, Remember what you've done. It's so funny how we don't score anymore, It's so funny why we can’t play anymore, We’re all losing sleep – staying up on the cheap, It's so funny how we don't score anymore. We’re all losing will – going down just like Knill, It's so funny how we don't score anymore. But we ain’t signing class – ‘cos good players cost brass, It's so funny how we don't score anymore.
Why? What's wrong with Sir Cliff? Apart from his God bothering, turkey neck, cack wine & endless w4nky Xmas songs. She's just a Devil Woman, With blumpkin on her mind. My Mum went to see Cliff about 20 times. And Richard Clayderman. That was before I chucked her in a bath of sulphiric acid.
