Sick to rest

It's Christmas time,

And the redpooe are so afraid, It's Christmas time, Not enough points from the games they've played,

But in our world of plenty, Rafa spreads no smile of joy, Throw your arms around a pooe , At Christmas time,

But say a prayer,

And Pray for the Royal Blues, At Christmas time, It's hard when your team win & the redpooe lose!

There's a world outside your window, and it's a world of redpooe fear,

Where the only waters flowing, Is a whining Kopite's tears,

And Benitez's mobile ringing was the clanging sound of doom, Well tonight we thank God it's Moyes, instead of you,

And there won't be many points for them this Christmas time, The greatest gift they'll get this year's a draw, Where no pbutt ever goes, No flick or long ball throws,

Do they know how 3 points feel at all?

(Here's to you) 3 points for everyone (Here's to them) Next season v Gillingham

Do they know how 3 points feel at all?

Feed the redpooe (Let them know how 3 points feel) Feed the redpooe (Let them know how 3 points feel)

(Repeat then fade - into f***in oblivion!)