You all know my big brither Jock
His right name’s Johnny Shaw.
Last week he jined a fitba’ club
For he’s mad about fitba’.
He’s got two black eyes already,
An’ teeth oot by the root,
Since Jock’s face came in contact
Wi another fella’s boot.
'Cause he’s fitba’ crazy,
He’s fitba’ mad.
The fitba it has ta’en away
The wee bit sense he had.
And it wid take a dozen servants
His claes tae wash and scrub,
Since Jock became a member o’
That terrible fitba’ club
The first game he took part in,
I wis there ma’sel’ an’ saw,
There were twa half bricks fae goalposts,
An’ a tin can for the ba’.
The Prince of Wales wis present,
Wi’ lords ‘n’ ladies grand -
Oor Jock he got an egg box,
An’ he made a big grandstand.
Oh all the fitba’ teams hiv afloat,
He swears they are the prime.
An’ you want tae hear him bounce aboot
Their beatin’ record time.
They’ve challenged every ither side
Nane ‘ill tak’ them up,
Since they beat the Blind Asylum
Fir a leather plated cup.
His wife she says she’ll leave him,
If he disnae keep
Away frae playin’ fitba’.
At night time in his sleep,
He ca’s her Pat McGinty,
An’ ither names sae droll.
Last night he kicked her oot the bed -
An’ swore it wis a goal!