Selhurst Pigeons Grounded by Bromley

[Verse 1] London squatters, featherless and second best, Physio is crowded, more than terraces you guest. Out the gutter, failing every single test, Plucked pigeons, hit the gravel with a mess. Elite at the pre-match, LEGEND at the mismatch, Pro level at posing, WORLD CLASS at the back-chat. [Chorus] Three-nil to the non-league, you're the local joke, Selhurst's pigeons, watch your pride go up in smoke. One kick beat your whole team, sailing through the air, Eagles hit the tarmac while the Bromley fans all stare. [Instrumental break] [Verse 2] Sage used twenty-two boys, couldn't find a spark, You'd miss a hangar, parking in the dark. Goal-kicks send you packing, leave your backline stark, Rak-Sakyi tripped on nothing, missing every mark. Elite at excuses, LEGEND at the bloopers, Giants in the warm-up, WORLD CLASS as the losers. [Chorus] Three-nil to the non-league, you're the local joke, Selhurst's pigeons, watch your pride go up in smoke. One kick beat your whole team, sailing through the air, Eagles hit the tarmac while the Bromley fans all stare. [Outro] Stadium's a ghost-town, history's a sin, Croydon's biggest failure? Rubbish bin.