Defenders – nobody likes you –
Nothing but bouncers, bunch of blockheads
Stamping on the fuse of the strikers’ rockets
Petty bullies, the whole ground spites you –
Cheering for the brave centre forwards in attack,
They’re hoping they can sparkle as they net one on the back.
Defenders – champions of ‘nope’,
Flat-footed jobsworths, the crowd has made you deaf
As they jeer and curse and hate you, more than any ref.
Sneering killjoys, crushing our hope
To keep the boring status quo –
This is business, it ain’t a show.