Never be Rochdale
When I was just a little boy, I asked my mother what will I be, Will I be Bury? Will I be Rochdale? Here's what she said to me. Wash yer mouth out son, And go get your father's gun, And shoot all the Fail scum, Shoot the Fail scum...
Get Ya T*ts out for the Lads! Chant
Corr she's a lovely piece of stuff or a fat bloke!