When Saturday Comes

There’s no rational explanation

The lads can do no wrong

Bound by love and dedication

This is where we all belong

And I don’t need a rhyme or reason

To spend my weekly wage

I’ve followed them every season

Since seven years of age

And this game changes you forever

Life reduced to crumbs

There’s no doubting my endeavour

When Saturday Comes, we come alive

When Saturday Comes, at two fifty-nine

The floodlit sky provides direction

For those away from home

As one man ponders his selection

One man’s left to roam

And the pubs are awash with coloured clothes

Not a square inch going spare

And then they exit in their droves 

Excitement fills the air

And he might earn more in a summer 

Than I earn in my life

He’s got a hot tub and a Hummer

And Miss World for his wife

But when he scored that left-foot screamer

Became the golden son

He joined the drinkers and the dreamers

When Saturday Comes, we come alive 

When Saturday Comes, at two fifty-nine

And I don't need a rhyme or reason

To spend my weekly wage

I’ve followed them every season

Since seven years of age

And it’ll change your way forever

Your life reduced to crumbs

And there’s no doubting my endeavour

When Saturday Comes

When Saturday Comes

Lucifer's Cardigan

Sometimes it's not so much the fear of being rejected
But the fear of being accepted
That's left me rather stuck
And I'm looking for distractions whilst you're looking at the floor
And I'm happy just to settle for a draw

And you might not notice how I start again
Two words out of ten, and end-up looking suspect
As you muse on muddled words I lie there gazing at the table
I'm willing but unable
To find another subject

And it feels like I am standing at the top
Of a diving board with a hundred metre drop
Or twelve yards out with the ball placed on the spot
But forty thousand whistles make me stop

And I'm wearing Lucifer's cardigan as you kiss me at the door
You tell me that you love me, and my feet raise off the floor
Then the harshness of reality leaves me wanting more
There's another awkward silence as I settle for a draw

And it feels like I am standing at the top
Of a diving board with a hundred metre drop
Or twelve yards out with the ball placed on the spot
But forty thousand whistles make me stop

And I'm wearing Lucifer's cardigan as you kiss me at the door
You tell me that you love me, and my feet raise off the floor
Then the harshness of reality leaves me wanting more
There's another awkward silence as I settle for a draw

Well he's really quite good lucking, mum; he's awfully polite
In fact, I think he might...
No I doubt he ever will do, dear