- Death;
- Taxes;
- Tottenham will choke whenever the game is on the line and all is required is a little keep-ball;
- Tottenham supporters will chant “England’s No.1″ when current porky incumbent even so much as controls a back pass successfully; and
- Chris Hughton will point a lot and look pretend-mystified when Spurs defence eventually crumbles like an oreo cookie under a steel toecap.
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- BMJ will inevitably make a mystifying substitution decision.
- Somewhere, probably right behind BMJ’s seat, there will be one Jermain Defoe, slouched and sulking, for either having been prematurely take off, or not substituted in at all.
- Zokora will charge upfiled in a straight line barely in possession of the ball, whereupon he will make the slightest contact with the smallest opposition midfielder, fall down and lose possession.
- In the rare instance that above does not happen, he will powerfully stroke the ball into Row Z. Right there near JD’s preferred taret.
Oh to be a Tottenham fan, is it a deadly sin?
Oh to be a Tottenham fan, waiting for a win
There are a few new signings and a chap called Darren Bent
It seems to be a waste, the money that we spent.
Oh to be a Tottenham fan, with a manager called Martin Jol
Oh to be a Tottenham fan, it tests your very soul
Our stadium, it stinks and it’s not a pretty sight
How come for some many years we’ve been a pile of shite?
Oh to be a Tottenham fan, maybe I should retire
When considering the team’s position, wallowing in the mire
With Berbatoss up the front, his path to goal is clear
But how often does he shoot, and bring the usual ‘oh dear’
Oh to be Tottenham fan, we hate the boys in red.
They often seem to win the league, it does us in the head.
Yet we never seem to improve or learn things from our peers.
‘cos Tottenham Hotspur Football Club have won nothing for f***ing years.
Oh to be a Tottenham fan, do I need to see a shrink?
I only date fat ugly girls, perhaps it’s the dreadful stink
The jealousy, it is so painful and if I had realised sooner
I could’ve been with The Arsenal boys singing ‘Oh to be a Gooner’
Oh to be a Tottenham fan, taking lots of stick.
I’ve nothing to respond with – it really makes me sick.
Rubbish players, rubbish manager and so we leave before the end.
No wonder being a Tottenham fan is sending me round the bend.
Oh to be a Tottenham fan, secretly wishing I was a Manc.
For they buy players willy nilly with the cash they have at bank.
At Tottenham we borrow large and make sure to spend it all
Then discover some weeks later that we’ve pi**ed it up the wall
Oh to be a Tottenham fan ‘cos life is so hum drum
A Carling Cup would do us, any little crumb
Season after season, the players are all the same
It’s a pity they’re all such crap and cannot win a game
Oh to be a Tottenham fan, with shirts all lilly white
Shame the side was so expensive but still a bag of shite
I wish I was a Gooner, then my mates would think me clever
But I have just had to admit that we are ‘the worst fans ever’
Oh to be a Tottenham fan, just how bad can we get?
Now I’m bound to lose 50 notes to Sparkie, wagered in a bet.
‘cos the lilly whites can’t win a game and are the worst team in this town
If Jol doesn’t leave very soon, we’ll sure be going down
Oh to be a Tottenham fan, the crap team in the south,
Boy do I wish I hadn’t been so quick in shooting off my mouth.
Near the foot of the table, terrible in defence and severely off the pace,
In a matter of just a few weeks I’ve got egg all over my face
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