Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo at half time,
Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo at full time,
Two points from three games,
It’s that Chairman, Daniel Levy; he’s the one to blame.

He didn’t get his chequebook out,
He didn’t sign enough players,
And he didn’t sell Jermaine Jenas,
That’ll please the naysayers.

He should have held on to Harry,
We’d never had it so good,
Replaced him with some prodigy,
Just because he could.

The high line, inverted wingers, high tempo pressing,
Opponent scouting, dossiers, second guessing,
Sports science, performance analysts, youth integration,
New technologies, new methodologies, PowerPoint presentations.

All this modern stuff that other clubs do,
We don’t need all that – what are we trying to prove?
It’s a simple game, eleven against eleven, fahkin’ run about a bit,
Beat your man on the outside, whip in a cross, get a clean hit.

So you can stick your revolution,
I’m giving up Spurs – no more,
If it ain’t Champions League, I ain’t interested,
Everything else is a bore.

You know what, mate? I’m glad.
The Lane’s a far better place,
Without your sense of entitlement,
And without your ugly face.

Let’s have some positivity,
Let’s sing our hearts out in the pub,
Let’s make White Hart Lane a fortress again,
Let’s get behind our club.