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I have a favourite brother
And his Christian name is Paul.
He's lately joined a football club
For he's mad about football.
He's two black eyes already
And teeth lost from his gob,
Since Paul became a member of
That terrible football club.

For he's football crazy,
He's football mad,
The football it has taken away
The little bit o' sense he had,
And it would take a dozen servants
To wash his clothes and scrub,
Since Paul became a member of
That terrible football club.

In the middle of the field, one afternoon,
The captain says, "Now Paul,
Would you kindly take this place-kick
Since you're mad about football?"
So he took forty paces backwards,
Shot off from the mark.
The ball went sailing over the bar
And landed in New York.

For he's football crazy ...

His wife says she'll leave him
If Paulie doesn't keep
Away from football kicking
At night-time in his sleep.
He calls out 'Pass, McGinty!"
And other things so droll
Last night he kicked her out of bed
And swore it was a goal!

For he's football crazy ...

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Source: Singing Together, Autumn 1968, BBC Publications

This is credited as an 'Irish Song.' According to a Mudcat thread from 2001 (quoting Adam MacNaughton), it was written by Glaswegian James Curran (born in Donegal, but grew up in Scotland) who died in 1900.

For verse 2, the first few syllables are sung to semiquavers (not quavers) to fit the lyrics.

Roud: 6858 (Search Roud index at VWML)

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