We hide under the table
We cower behind the chair
We hear words we've never heard
As swearing fills the air

The TV screen's been damaged
Remote control is mashed
The living room's a battlefield
The furniture's been trashed

Dad's blood pressure is rising
Mum tells him to calm down
Blue veins are bulging from his head
His heart begins to pound

While steam pours out his nostrils
His feet stamp on the floor
A hundred crazed gorillas
Would shrivel at his roar

There's dinner on the carpet
And beer spilt down his jeans
He turns a shade of purple
Yellow, orange, red and green

He writhes around in agony
Yells "I can't take no more!"
Though I thought sport was just for fun
To him it's just for war

Our windows are all broken
Our Sky dish has been smashed
All extremely annoying
But Dad's way of enjoying
Another England football match