Why do they dress us in white and blue?
I’m not a sailor and nor are you!
I’m tired of them saying, “Oh, aren’t they sweet?”,
When I want to play football out in the street!
I want to fall over and graze my knee,
Or scratch it, climbing the nearest tree.
Just a splash of colour, a splash of red,
Bloody knees or bloody head!
I’m not an angel, I’m a small boy,
And I want to be grubby! Oh, what a joy!
Let’s eat spaghetti and get sauce on our things,
Just the thought of it happening, and my heart sings!
So down with blue and down with white,
I’m going to roll in a puddle with all my might!