(If anyone thought we would hold on to a 2-1 lead going into injury time they have clearly not been paying attention)

 

This wasn't voluntary

The bastards they picked me

That's how I came to be a Tottenham man;

As contrary as it seems

You don't pick your teams

Unless you are a Man United "fan";

So they picked me like their pet

To wear this old rosette

I cannot take it off my whole life through

And so despite the pain

A Spud I still remain

And will be when were in Division 2.

 

In Division 2

Yes, in Division 2

Though latterly it's called the Championship;

When once it was a joke

We'll soon be playing Stoke

As deeper down the Premier League we slip.

 

No secret what's in store

We've been here once before

I watched Glen Hoddle hone his ball skills there

Defenders looked like clowns

At Hull and Mansfield Town

But even then there was not this despair;

But through the mud and snow

They never let me go

I watch them from behind my old settee

I cant help what I am

A sad old Tottenham fan

Condemned into this life of misery.

 

So bring on Division 2

I'm quite prepared for you

It's well deserved we've played like amateurs

I know just what you're thinking

Jokes up about Lincoln

But I cannot get divorced from the Spurs.

 

And in general on the whole

I can curb my vitriol

Even when our lousy football sucks

But sometimes it's not long

Before the Anglo-Saxon tongue

Erupts and like Tourette's I bellow “Shucks!”

But there's only me to blame

I'll be watching their next game

I found it easier to leave the wife

I must be out my mind

I can't break these ties that bind

I'm chained to Tottenham Hotspur all my life.