Well, come on all of you, big strong men, Auntie Kat needs your help again. She's seen a big black and white rally Way down yonder at The Valley So put down your books and grab a Belgian bun, We're gonna have a whole lotta fun.
And it's one, two, three, That’s what every team seems to score Don't ask me, I don't give a toss, Next stop is a Brighton loss; And it's five, six, seven, Open up the floodgates, Well there ain't no time for Fraeye the clown, Whoopee! we're all going down.
Come on you other clubs, don't be slow, Every player can a-go-go-go There's plenty good money it may seem mad By buying another promising Charlton lad But just hope and pray when we sell em ‘all They don’t end up at Millwall
And it's one, two, three, That’s what every team seems to score Don't ask me, I don't give a toss, Next stop is a Brighton loss; And it's five, six, seven, Open up the floodgates, Well there ain't no time for Fraeye the clown, Whoopee! we're all going down.
Well, come on supporters, let's move fast; Your big chance has come at last. Cheer those players young and old 'Cause the only good player is one that’s been sold And you know that promotion can only be won When the balance sheet’s good and the squad numbers one
And it's one, two, three, That’s what every team seems to score Don't ask me, I don't give a toss, Next stop is a Brighton loss; And it's five, six, seven, Open up the floodgates, Well there ain't no time for Fraeye the clown, Whoopee! we're all going down.
Come on mothers throughout the land, Pack your boys off to our home ground Come on fathers, and don't hesitate You can help us reach a 20000 gate We don’t want oldies but the kids must be sent And be sure you ignore that stupid 2%
And it's one, two, three, That’s what every team seems to score Don't ask me, I don't give a toss, Next stop is a Brighton loss; And it's five, six, seven, Open up the floodgates, Well there ain't no time for Fraeye the clown, Whoopee! we're all going down.
To the tune of what Wednesday were singing at our place.
Roland had a dream, to not build a football team we had no money, so had to buy players on loan With Mak not at the back, our football is cack We're Charlton Athletic we're on our way down da du da du
You put your manager in, Your manager out, In out in out shake 'em all about, You do the Katrien Meire and you turn around, That's what it's all about out out.
I dreamed a dream in times gone by When gates were high and Valley brimming I dreamed we'd have a decent side I dreamed that they would keep on winning But the Belgians came at night With their 'huhs' as soft as thunder As they tear your hope apart And they turn your dream to shame
To the tune of what Wednesday were singing at our place.
Roland had a dream, to not build a football team we had no money, so had to buy players on loan With Mak not at the back, our football is cack We're Charlton Athletic we're on our way down da du da du
I can see clearly now Katrien has gone I can see all obstacles (Roland) in my way Gone are the dark clouds that had me down It's gonna be a bright bright sunshinin' day It's gonna be a bright bright sunshinin' day
Oh yes, I can make it now the pain is gone All of the bad feelings have disappeared Here is that rainbow I've been praying for It's gonna be a bright bright sunshinin' day
We want to break free We want to break free We want to break free from your lies You're so self satisfied we don't need you We've got to break free God knows, God knows we want to break free.
We want back our club We want back our club, not a sofa You've made a joke out of us We want back our club God knows, God knows we want back our club.
It's strange but it's true Just how many people make a percentage of two Every coach a success For just 6 months or less
Oh how we want to be free Oh how we want to break free.
I seriously think that if we want to get the message across about how unpopular Duchatelet's experiment is, we need to start singing it loudly from the terraces. There are lots of good songs above, but let's be honest, none of them are going to get sung in anger. Football fans a notoriously conservative with the choice of tunes they'll sing, and rarely sing anything that's longer than a single chorus. With that in mind, I'd recommend these adaptations to chants that we currently sing (or at least have done in the recent past):
Get out of our club, Get out of our club, Fraeye, Miere and Roly, Get out of out club.
[to the tune of Sloop John B - AKA He's coming for you]
Fuck Off Duchatelet, Fuck off Duchatelet...
[to the tune of Rigoletto - AKA Paolo DiCanio]
If you all hate Meire, clap your hands...
[to the tune of She'll be coming round the mountain - AKA if you all hate Millwall]
Build a bonfire, Build a bonfire, Put Roly on the top, Put the night-Meire in the middle then burn the fucking lot.
[to the tune of Build a bonfire, funnily enough]
Who told all the lies, Who told all the lies, Big nosed lawyer, big nosed lawyer, She told all the lies.
[To the tune of Knees up mother Brown - AKA Who eat all the pies]
God on high Hear my prayer In my need You have always been there
Chris is young He's afraid Let him rest Heaven blessed. Bring Chris home Bring Chris home Bring Chris home.
He's like the son I might have known If God had granted me a son. The summers die One by one How soon they fly On and on And I am old And will be gone.
Bring him peace Bring him joy He is young He is only a boy
You can take You can give Let him be Let him live If I die, let me die Let him live Bring Chris home Bring Chris home Bring Chris home.
Ok I know - move on!
The 10 anniversary version of that is the bollocks, Bowes smashed it. Collabro do a good version an all
Just found @JaShea99's suggestion in another thread:
We don't need no Belgian invasion We don't need no foreign control No Meire sarcasm in the boardroom Roland, leave that club alone Hey Belgians - leave Charlton alone When we're through, it's just another business to you Get out before you put a stain on our great name
I like it.
At the very least, "Hey Roland! Leave Our Club Alone!" easy enough to get going.
I reckon to be succesful a chant or song needs to be:
Short. Repetitive. No bad language. Preferably a pre-existing terrace tune. The words have to match the beats in the original lyric (crowds are bad at squeezing in extra syllables)
If others can pick it up after one run through, it'll take off. And that variety will help with social media posts, and any potential news articles, as such I really feel this is as important as any thread live right now. There's some great creativity going on, but we could really do with enough of us getting behind some workable chants that can spread around the ground and post-match protest.
Comments
: - )
Auntie Kat needs your help again.
She's seen a big black and white rally
Way down yonder at The Valley
So put down your books and grab a Belgian bun,
We're gonna have a whole lotta fun.
And it's one, two, three,
That’s what every team seems to score
Don't ask me, I don't give a toss,
Next stop is a Brighton loss;
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the floodgates,
Well there ain't no time for Fraeye the clown,
Whoopee! we're all going down.
Come on you other clubs, don't be slow,
Every player can a-go-go-go
There's plenty good money it may seem mad
By buying another promising Charlton lad
But just hope and pray when we sell em ‘all
They don’t end up at Millwall
And it's one, two, three,
That’s what every team seems to score
Don't ask me, I don't give a toss,
Next stop is a Brighton loss;
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the floodgates,
Well there ain't no time for Fraeye the clown,
Whoopee! we're all going down.
Well, come on supporters, let's move fast;
Your big chance has come at last.
Cheer those players young and old
'Cause the only good player is one that’s been sold
And you know that promotion can only be won
When the balance sheet’s good and the squad numbers one
And it's one, two, three,
That’s what every team seems to score
Don't ask me, I don't give a toss,
Next stop is a Brighton loss;
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the floodgates,
Well there ain't no time for Fraeye the clown,
Whoopee! we're all going down.
Come on mothers throughout the land,
Pack your boys off to our home ground
Come on fathers, and don't hesitate
You can help us reach a 20000 gate
We don’t want oldies but the kids must be sent
And be sure you ignore that stupid 2%
And it's one, two, three,
That’s what every team seems to score
Don't ask me, I don't give a toss,
Next stop is a Brighton loss;
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the floodgates,
Well there ain't no time for Fraeye the clown,
Whoopee! we're all going down.
What is she good for?
Absolutely nothing,
Say it again.
Meire, good god y'all,
What is she good for?
Absolutely nothing,
Say it again.
[Repeat until hoarse]
Ohhh we want our Charlton back
Please give Ms Meire the sack
Are you listening Mister Duchataleetttt.
Repeat.
Roland had a dream, to not build a football team
we had no money, so had to buy players on loan
With Mak not at the back, our football is cack
We're Charlton Athletic we're on our way down
da du da du
Your manager out,
In out in out shake 'em all about,
You do the Katrien Meire and you turn around,
That's what it's all about out out.
When gates were high and Valley brimming
I dreamed we'd have a decent side
I dreamed that they would keep on winning
But the Belgians came at night
With their 'huhs' as soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame
I can see all obstacles (Roland) in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me down
It's gonna be a bright bright sunshinin' day
It's gonna be a bright bright sunshinin' day
Oh yes, I can make it now the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is that rainbow I've been praying for
It's gonna be a bright bright sunshinin' day
(apologies to Johnny Nash)
We want to break free
We want to break free from your lies
You're so self satisfied we don't need you
We've got to break free
God knows, God knows we want to break free.
We want back our club
We want back our club, not a sofa
You've made a joke out of us
We want back our club
God knows, God knows we want back our club.
It's strange but it's true
Just how many people make a percentage of two
Every coach a success
For just 6 months or less
Oh how we want to be free
Oh how we want to break free.
Get out of our club,
Get out of our club,
Fraeye, Miere and Roly,
Get out of out club.
[to the tune of Sloop John B - AKA He's coming for you]
Fuck Off Duchatelet, Fuck off Duchatelet...
[to the tune of Rigoletto - AKA Paolo DiCanio]
If you all hate Meire, clap your hands...
[to the tune of She'll be coming round the mountain - AKA if you all hate Millwall]
Build a bonfire,
Build a bonfire,
Put Roly on the top,
Put the night-Meire in the middle
then burn the fucking lot.
[to the tune of Build a bonfire, funnily enough]
Who told all the lies,
Who told all the lies,
Big nosed lawyer, big nosed lawyer,
She told all the lies.
[To the tune of Knees up mother Brown - AKA Who eat all the pies]
Clap-clap clap-clap-clap clap-clap-clap-clap clap-clap, Fuck Off!
[to the tune of Let's go (Pony) - AKA Clap-clap clap-clap-clap clap-clap-clap-clap clap-clap, Charlton!]
You're not welcome here
Say good bye bye bye
Good bye bye bye
Sit down Pinnochio, Sit down Pinnochio.
Change it to 'Stand up', and sing it to her aimed at the Directors Box
Katrien's shagging Roland
La la la
la la la
Katrien's shagging Roland
Katrien's shagging Roland
La la la
la la la
If we can keep this going for 10 mins or so, I think it would be great.
We want the Belgians out
We want the Belgians out
We want the Belgians out
Repeat
Many miles have I travelled many network managers I've seen
all ruining charlton ...my favourite team
Many hours I've spent in the half empty east stand Singing get these Belgians out
.... of my football club!
By the big bronze Sam Bartram,
They have the shares,
But we are the owners.
We don;t care about Roland (w*nker)
He don't care about us
All we care about, is CAFC
She wears a wonderbra
And when she's f***ing Roland
She thinks of Naby Sarr!!
Maybe not productive but still tickles me!
At the very least, "Hey Roland! Leave Our Club Alone!" easy enough to get going.
Short.
Repetitive.
No bad language.
Preferably a pre-existing terrace tune.
The words have to match the beats in the original lyric (crowds are bad at squeezing in extra syllables)
If others can pick it up after one run through, it'll take off. And that variety will help with social media posts, and any potential news articles, as such I really feel this is as important as any thread live right now. There's some great creativity going on, but we could really do with enough of us getting behind some workable chants that can spread around the ground and post-match protest.
For We don't love you anymore
we don't want you at our football club
Release us we want our club back again!