The terraces

Standing the terraces when I was a lad, I went with my mates not with my dad.

In the Fulwell end is where it began, "c'mon you reds" the whole crowd sang.

Singing the name of each player turn, there were still plenty more I had to learn.

The match kicked off I strained to see, there was a six foot blokey in front of me.

I bopped and weaved to get a good view, me mate nashed off to get a brew.

Get in! we've scored one nowt up, me mate got knocked and spilt his cup.

Half time came it was bovril and pie, I was so emotional it made me cry.

Six nowt was the score at the final whistle, I was still chewing my pie no meat just gristle.

Told me da of the game and who scored the goals, he wasn't that bothered just gathered the coals.

Over the years Roker Park has gone, made way for houses and terraces there's none.

Stadium of light is where we go now, to see the team take their bow.

Not many games did we see won, maybe next year cos we're in bloody league one.