(don't Fear The) Sweeper Lyrics

Pissing down with rain on a Tuesday night,
I stood and watched my team play like a bag of shite
The goaly is a twit, the stiker is a twat,
The referee's a git and he's blinder than a bat
So what!? You scored? Well shut your f*cking gobs!
You might have won, but we've got bigger knobs

Piss your pants! That deserves a booking!
Shit your bags! He played the bastard ball!
f*cking hell! These pies need cooking!
Coffee's shit and the bovril's cold

Get stuck in! You're playing like a weed! We're free to be concentrating on the league
He's booked! Thank f*ck! Let's bring on the sub,
He's got five minutes, then I'm going down the pub

Up your arse! A mile outside the box!
You might have won, but we've got bigger cocks!

Piss your pants! That's a bastard corner!
Chuck this pasty at the referee
f*ck off home it was a crap performance
And we should have had a penalty

(Buy us ten pints, and we don't care)

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