Billy Bennett
(Almost a Gentleman)
Billy Bennett
Half a league, half a league, football league, 0nward.
In fifteen char-a-bancs rode the 600. 
This is the tale of a football match, where men fought to their death, 
A tale of forward backs and fronts, and footballs filled with breath. 

The famous Chelsea Totspurs - what a name! (there's nowt to kill it) 
Were playing Woolworth's Arsenic for the cup (and beer to fill it). 
There in the stands they stood, hoping the match was good. 
Up to their knees in mud - noble 600! 

The band was blowing bubbles, trills and frills and rolls, 
And a pair of cows were busy chewing grass from round the goals. 
The good old Totspurs came on first, a hefty lot of kickers, 
They all wore shinguards on their shins, and mudguards on their knickers. 

Bring out the busted ball cried stop-me-and-buy-one Wall, 
Answer your country's call, who killed Rob Cocking? 
Pass, shouted Porky Flynn, pass me a double gin, 
Who kicked the captain's chin - pushed all his dimples in? 

Rude girls began to grin, his pants were giving in, 
Lend him a safety pin, or - pop goes the weasel! 
Half backs to right of 'em, draw backs to left of 'em, 
Switch backs in front of 'em. 

Tuck in your jersey, 
Centre, and have a shot, 
Cannon in off and pot. 
Don't hit the baby's cot, 
Someone has blundered. 

They tackled them and tickled them, 
But give the men their due, 
The ball bounced swiftly to and fro 
And sometimes fro and to. 

When they'd scored fifty goals, 
Postmen delivered coals, 
Boy scouts climbed up their poles, 
All waving sausage rolls. 

Navvies in camisoles 
Went to their better 'oles, 
Back, back to draw their doles 
And buy silk pyjamas. 

Then came an awful smash, 
Goal posts fell with a crash 
Hit one bald head and bash, 
Shingled a bloke's moustache
But don't tell his mother. 

The referee put his foot down, with a most decided smack, 
He ordered eight men off the field and fetched eleven back, 
He tried to blow his whistle but they pushed it through his face, 
He'd two black eyes and his trousers torn in a very awkward place. 

Offside for leg before, inside to have one more, 
Outside the canteen door stood the 600, 
Oh! what a charge they made, Oh! what a canteen raid, 
All drank and no one paid, 
Honour the Tight Brigade, 
Chockful of lemonade,
Noble 600. 
The end