From the Corner Pin and Two Brewers they came,

Shelf Side, Paxton and The Park Lane

Bricklayers, Olive and The Bell and Hare

Each with their routines and traditions to share.

Each with the same aim,

The same goal and dreams

A day out at Wembley

Pleasure in the extreme.

Meet the lads in the pub

Our bond shared like brothers.

Pint mate? Yes please

And then have another.

Quick catch up, some banter

Take the piss, have a laugh

Dressed to the nines

With your lucky scarf.

Kick off a song, the lads join in

Shout it with pride, bursting from within

This is it. Sing our anthems, sing proud

I’m 10 feet tall floating on cloud.

More pints? Yes please.

Order a pitcher as the bar is now packed

Flirt with the barmaid, will she react?

Stand in a circle united as one

Song builds up slowing into an anthem

The whole pub is jumping

My heart’s really pumping

This is life, this is alive

Ossie’s Dream; Marching in; From the Lane

Louder and louder, again and again.

More beer is flowing, new friendships growing

Laughing and sharing tales of the Lane

Where do you drink?

Do you know what’s his name?

Were you there in 81, 82 or 84?

When Gazza owned Wembley?

When Klinsmann got four?

On the train, keep it going

Singing boisterous and coarse

Chanting together

An unbeatable force

Into the ground and it’s Tottenham we see

Flags and colours with the same aim,

In search of glory.

We try to do ourselves proud

and sing ourselves hoarse

but are ultimately powerless

to change the game’s course.

Now the game’s over and I’m crying inside

Feeling so empty devoid of all feeling

Can’t understand why

Don’t know the meaning.

Imagining if we’d won and captured the moment

Taken the chance, held it and owned it.

Loss has taken over, sadness depression.

Do the players feel the same?

Or is it just another job, only a game?

Back to their mansions, accepting no blame?

Do they know what it’s like to follow a team?

To want something so bad, to live life through dreams.

Or is a career, a way to earn cash?

For a rolex, a car, a 4 bed detached.

What are they thinking now?

Is their week in tatters?

Are they as empty as us

Or is it the money that matters?

The main difference is we live our life through them

They represent our culture both now and then

When we cheer as they score who are we celebrating for?

For them or for us, I’m really not sure.

Do we even know them?

Why do we want them to win?

Is it for their success or the shirt that they’re in?

See, their shirt is us and all we stand for

Our hopes, identity, emotional saviour.

They give us a community, a place to belong,

Something to believe in, through drink and through song.

A place that’s consistent with friends always there

Where we forget life’s pressures, shout and swear.

Tottenham gives us tradition built year upon year,

Meet at the station and go for a beer,

Remember the old days of times in the Paxton

Of friends not here now but never forgotten.

Win, lose or draw, sorrow or glory,

Each match still matters, each a new story.

So now the cup ends I must get over the sorrow

Take experience of yesterday and build for tomorrow

It’s you mate that I feel for, as we want it so much

But we’ll keep waiting, we’ll still keep in touch.

We’ll still believe that our day will come

The Cup Final at Wembley.

Our day in the sun.