Relegation Road

RELEGATION ROAD

They’re selling tickets for the hanging
They’re painting the sidelines in white
In the queues the supporters are thinking :
Oh no, the circus is in town

Here comes the blind attacker
Watching him is pain in the a-s
One of his feet is like tied to the ground
The other one is a brick

And the ultra squads they are sleepy
They need something to do
As they are all clearly stuck tonight
On relegation road

The goalkeeper he seems so easy
“I’m sure I can catch this”, he smiles
And puts his hands in counter of the incoming thing
In Oliver Kahn style

And when the ball rolls in, he’s moaning
“I was more difficult than I thought”
And supporters say “you’re in the wrong place, moron
You better leave this side”

And the only sound that’s left
After the referee whistles
Is the supporters weeping loud
On relegation road

Now the team is below everything
For them I feel so afraid
After only twelve league games
They still play like old maids

To them loosing is quite natural
Like they’re all wearing cement vests
Their professionalism is at stake
And their sin is their lifelessness

And though all eyes are fixed upon
Zidane’s great rainbow
Racing spends it’s time running
On relegation road