Match day is here, scarf around your wrist

Dad takes his lad the games never missed

Sea of red winds its way down the lane

Singing the songs that announce the game

The turnstiles click as they hurry inside

Narrow passages opening out wide

The green of the pitch is sharp on the eyes

Hot Chocolate in hand and the promise of pies

The team emerge from the tunnel to cheers

Hands waving scarves and pints of beer

The whistle blows and the match begins

Each supporter hopes its their team that wins

A flying tackle, a quick taken free kick

The headers won, home fans feel sick

More running and shouting from the team in Red

90 minutes are up and they are still ahead

The ref calls the game, and red fans cheer

The blues are disheartened, it was near.

1 – 0 to us, we are top of the league

Billy is smiling his Dad is relieved