Niall Quinn's Disco Pants


Niall Quinn's disco pants are the best,
They go up from his ar$e to his chest.
They are better than Adam and The Ants,
Niall Quinn's disco pants.

Our defender are so tight,
The keeper just gets bored,
One Melville pass contains more class
Than all the House of Lords.
With Micky it's a travesty
That he's not England's number three,
See the size of Butler's thighs,
He’s running on pie energy.
Solid granite three feet thick
Is softer than Chris Makin.
Survive him and we've Sorenson
To save our Danish bacon

Niall Quinn's disco pants are the best,
They go up from his ar$e to his chest.
They are better than Adam and The Ants,
Niall Quinn's disco pants.

It's hard to beat a football team
That plays with a magician,
And Allan Johnston's cast his magic
Spell on this division
Lee Clark is a Mackem,
Talking with his feet,
We look through Alex Raebans,
So we're just too cool to beat.
It's plain to see that Summerbee
Could outwit Aristotle,
And all the Samsons you could drink
Won’t fill up Bally's bottle.

Niall Quinn's disco pants are the best,
They go up from his ar$e to his chest.
They are better than Adam and The Ants,
Niall Quinn's disco pants.

Micky Bridges, cool as fringes,
dances round defences,
Mellow D. brings ecstasy
and Phillips scores us senseless.
Peter Reid has cheered up,
coz he knows just what it means.
For Sunderland supporter
To be "top of the league"
His masterstrike, an Irish bloke,
Who came up for the crack,
With footwear nicked from Fred Astaire,
And James Brown's disco slacks.

Niall Quinn's disco pants are the best,
They go up from his ar$e to his chest.
They are better than Adam and The Ants,
Niall Quinn's disco pants.
Niall Quinn's disco pants.
Niall Quinn's disco pants.
Niall Quinn's disco pants.