ONE OVER THE EIGHT
by
Billy Bennett
(Almost a Gentleman)



There’s a glorious game called Football
I’ve played it since I was seven
It’s a game where the players all go mad
And Referees go to Heaven.

And the players are bought and sold like tripe
Imagine the cruel suspense
When I was put up for auction
And I didn’t fetch eighteen pence.

The day had arrived for the charity match
And the crowd was a sight to see
They’d all brought their rattles and hooters
And some brought a ‘Raspberree’.

And all in the name of sweet charity
The money was going to be spent
In providing new homes - for ear-wigs
Who couldn’t afford to pay rent.

And the Mayor was there - with his ‘Lady Mayor’
He’d promised us fourpence - in consuls
He started to sing, “God save the King’
But back-fired and swallowed his tonsils.

The Players came out of - their kennels
And they all looked broken-hearted
The whistle blew, the crowd said, “Boo”
And we knew that the game had started.

And one player worked at the brewery
When he saw the wondeful ‘gate’
He ran all the way back to work again
And had ‘One over the eight’.

And when he came back they put him in goal
And I could see plenty of trouble
But he could see more than any of us
For he was seeing ‘double’.

Still, he knew he was there to stop the ball
And he meant stopping a few of ‘em
But every ball that came his way
Blow me, he could see two of ‘em.

He’d look to the right and look to the left
In fact he’d look everywhere
Then kick out to find that he’d kicked the wrong ball
And the one that he’d kicked wasn’t there.

Each time that he rushed out to ‘stop one’
With a player he came in collision
Got a wallop or two in his how-d’ye-do
And a kick in the First division.

The Referee stood in a puddle
With a fire-guard round his head
And the band was playing - to make him laugh
“Cheer up, you’ll soon be dead.”

Then the Manager spoke through his megaphone
And said, “You can like it or lump it.”
Somebody threw a dollop of mud
And stopped up the hole in his trumpet.

And I was playing inside right
I played so pretty and deft
If the crowd could have only got hold of me
I’d have had no inside left.

There’d been only one death in the ‘First half’
One less than they’d reckoned
So, not to be disappointed
They ‘laid me out’ in the second.

And when I woke up - in a cowshed
The Mayor’s wife smiling and pleasant
Had brought me a pair of crutches
And a ‘Yo Yo’ for a present.

Now I’m thinking of keeping rabbits
It’s safer - so I’ve heard
And the next time I play ‘Football’
I think I’ll play ‘Yo Yo” instead.