Transcription
THE DOOLEY FITBA CLUB. Written by JAMES CuRRIN. Sung by J. G. M'DONALD. This Popular Ssng can be had at the POET'S BOX,
OVBEGAE DUDEE. Noo ye a' ken my big brither Jock,
His richt name is Johnny Shaw,
We'll he's lately jined a fitba' club,
For he's daft aboot fitba';
He's twa black een already an
Three teeth oot by the root,
Whaur his face did come in contact wi'
Some ither fellow's boot. PATTER ,? His fair daft aboot fitba if he wis
jist as daft aboot wark, it wid be tae his credit.
He raves aboot a " throw in "-ma sang-I could
sometimes gi'e him a "throw oot." He swears
that their club has got yin o' the best "passers"
in the country ; the indivdual referred to got
three mouths lately, for passin' a bad shilln'.
Ma fellow ye ken plays centre forword-half-back
on the left wing, an tiees up an doon the field
they tell me like a hat on a winny day. Their
club is a gran' yin; they lately played the Blin'
Asylum, an scored a big victory, but for a', I
maun inform ye that- CHORUS. He's fitba' crazy fegs,
He's clean stane mad,
His fitba' capers robbed him o'
Whit we bit sense he had ;
It wid tak a dizen servents
His clase tae patch and scrub,
Since Jock's become a member o'
the Dooly fitba' club.
Noo the first match they ever played,
I went mysel' and saw,
they'd twa half bricks for goal posts an' A tin can for a ba' ;
The Prince o' Wales was present an'
Some lords and ladies grand,
So our Jock he got an egg box an
Erected a grand stand. PATTER.?'Magine the Prince o' Wales comin'
tae Hampden Park tae see he's club play fitba'?
so he says?an' he speaks the truth unless
whin he tells lees, an' he niver tells ony mair than
one lee at a time . It's polisman keeps goal for
them?his feet are nice an' big?they jist full the
goal posta, an' naethin' kin get passin' him. They
are tae play a big match on Saturday first; they're
matched tae play the Barrowfield Ironclads?a
club that deleated the Brigton Banebrakers by 1
goal to O, In fac', a' his crack is about fitba,
an' nae winner I'm compel'd tae say- Of a' the fitba' clubs afloat
Jock sweers they are the prime,
An' ye oucht tas hear him bounce aboot
Their beatin' record time ;
They've challenged a' the ither elubs
But name "ill tak' them up,
Since they played the Blin' Asylum team
For a Leather-Pated Cup. PATTER.?Ye' d lauch tae see them playin' wi
a corn-beef can instead o' a ba'?mun they rattle
aboot like mad. They had a match on wi' the
Rangers, it wis for a "Cuarity," an' they real
ized the handsome amount o' 1s, & 9d. It was
sent tae the Westren Infirmary in hap'ny stam-
ps, but if he disna' mend his ways I' ll leeve him
the fac' is? The auld wife sweers she'll put him oot
That's if he disna' keep
Frae kickin' up a rampus
Playin' fitba' through his sleep;
He'll cry oot it's a corner kick,
Or something else sae droll,
'Thither nicht he kicked me oot o bed
And he swore it was a goal.
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