DESCRIPTION:
More media training for that terrible scrote!
There's something camp about these coppers.
Look at the teethmarks in that star
The ruins after the officers' supper.
Winter wittering through the keyhole
Like a moralizing geek.
Feeling slow and sick on Saturday night
I have not been a saint this week,
Penned penitent with pen in hand
Ambition is a waste of time
Or curled up like a broken toe
When the bone snapped pictures of horrible animal heads went into my mind.

After a pitch inspection at mid-day
The officials made an announcement to say
That the pitch in fact was indeed still there
Well you know the kids, they'll nick anything at all these days.

You'll be the one who needs protection.
It's not a laughing matter.

You're fucking nicked, you little beauty.
All the old dudes are back from the pub
They must have forgotten to include me
All the old devils are back from the dead
Embarrassing as an unpopular theme park
If I'm having a party I will ask them inside
It has fun written all over it
There's fun reflected in the old lad's dying eyes.

You'll be the one who needs protection.
It's not a laughing matter.

The gathering gay-gangs, Huddersfield-herded,
Tapping their toes to the party line
The three-line whip, the insidious invite,
The hideous idiots, the twisted spine.
Fitness programmes, ambulance chasing,
There's plenty to do at the cultural centre.
A strapping young lad now stripped of his strapping
And his ankle covered in horse placenta.