Would I rather be languishing in the third tier or would I prefer promotion to the PL and have a go at staying there for a few years, even if I go down again and have another go? Hmm; now let me think...
It was in the year of eighty-eight, in the lovely month of June, When the gadflies were swarming and dogs howling at the moon, Ah with rosary beads and sandwiches for Stuttgart we began, Joxer packed his German phrase-book, and jump-leads for the van.
Ah well some of the lads had never been away from home before. It was the first time Whacker put his foot outside of Inchicore. And before we left for Europe, we knew we’d need a plan, So we all agreed that Joxer was the man to drive the van.
In Germany the Autobahn was like the Long Mile Road There was every make of car and van, all carrying the full load Ford Transits and Hiaces, and an old Bedford from Tralee, With the engine overheating from long-hauling duty free.
There were fans from Ballyfermot, Ballybough and Ballymun On the journey of a lifetime and the craic was ninety one Joxer met a German’s daughter on the banks of the River Rhine and he told her she’d be welcome in Ballyfermot anytime
And as soon as we found Stuttgart, we got the wagons in a ring Sean óg got out the banjo and Peter played the mandolin. Oh there were fans there from everywhere, attracted by the sound At the first Fleadh Ceol in Europe and Joxer passed the flagon round
But the session it ended when we’d finished all the stout The air mattresses inflated and the sleeping bags rolled out As one by one we fell asleep, Joxer had a dream He dreamt himself and Jack Charlton sat down to pick the team
Joxer dreamt they both agreed on Packie Bonner straight away And that Moran, Whelan and McGrath were certainly to play Ah but tempers they began to rise, patience wearing thin Jack wanted Cascarino, but Joxer wanted Quinn
And the dream turned into a nightmare, Joxer stuck the head on Jack Who wanted to bring Johnny Giles and Eamonn Dunphy back Ah well the cock crew in the morning, it crew both loud and shrill And Joxer woke up in his sleeping bag many miles from Arbour Hill
Ah next morning none of the experts gave us the slightest chance They said that the English team would lead us on a merry dance Ah with their union jacks all them English fans for victory they were set Until Ray Houghton got the ball and he stuck it in the net
What happened next is history, brought tears to many eyes Oh that day will be the highlight of many people’s lives Well Joxer climbed right over the top and the last time he was seen Was arm-in-arm with Jack Charlton, singing ‘Revenge for Skibbereen’.
Ah now Whacker’s back in Inchicore, he’s living with his Mam And Jack Charlton has been proclaimed an honorary Irishman Listen do you remember that German’s daughter on the banks of the River Rhine Ah jeez, well didn’t she show up in Ballyfermot last week
I believe, and hope, that Biden will win comfortably, possibly a landslide. I suspect that there will be sufficient numbers of voters who would normally be Republican leaning but who've had a gut full of Trump.