We lost a striker, and haven't won those laps Soak in the wet, I broke down in the floodlaps He went past me, as I fell in a heartbeatAnother goal conceded, my manager looks to sub meI hear the crowd murmurHe's not fit to wear the badgeAnd while you're at it, strip him of that armbandHe's not good enough to wear the badgeAnd while you're at it, strip him of the captain's armbandIn the halfway circle, I lost the ball's flightIn a concrete stadium, on a rainy Thursday nightI'm a YouTube smash hit, but nothing there is now newBut these clips don't show all the good I doPasses to our playmaker, the strikers pushed wideAll the options my distribution brings to the sideTicking off, before the end of the first halfI can't clear crosses, shots hitting my handsPassing, don't go to speed, but straight in at the standsI'm our team's calamitous joke of a semi-halfLeague Cup quarter-final away at RotterdamShould I pen anchor straight to the keeper's arms?I'm losing my head, I'm losing all reasonI've made twelve mistakes, leading the goals of the seasonTicking off, before the end of the first halfI can't clear crosses, shots hitting my handsPassing, don't go to speed, but straight to the standsI'm our team's calamitous joke of a centre-halfThey call into the radioHe's not good enough, not good enough for the badgeHe's not good enough, strip him of that captain's armbandHe's not good enough to wear this shirtAnd strip him while you're at it of that captain's armbandI'm this team's calamitous joke of a centre-half*