Gosh, we have been busy. This originally appeared on the facing page to the previous item, and of course should be sung along to the tune of 'Bohemian Rhapsody' by that band who the Editor can't quite make up his mind whether he likes or not...
A CONFERENCE RHAPSODY
Is this the Conference? Is this just fantasy? Caught in the UniBond? No escape from reality. Open your eyes, look right through the lies and see We're just a poor club deserving your sympathy Because they've hit us high, hit us low Late accounts a body blow Anyway the wind blows doesn't really matter to me. Mama, just killed our hopes, put a gun right to our head Can't go up, we could be dead Mama, our season's nearly done But now he's gone and blown it all away. Mama, ooooooo, we foll'wed them everywhere From Gateshead to Colwyn Bay Promotion was our only care Mama, ooooooo, have you seen a grown man cry Sending shivers down your spine Like a pint of turpentine I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all. I see a little book of Conference rules Scaramouche! Scaramouche! Are they really very frightening? Thunderbolt and lightning, very very frightening me. Gallileo, Gallileo, Subbuteo-o-oooo I see a little silhouette of a stand It was built in a hurry and approved by the man. Thunderbolt and lightning, very very frightening me. Easy come, easy go, that's the way the wind blows. They say no, we will not let you go (let him go) We will not let you go (let him go) Oh Mama mia, Mama mia, Mama mia, comfort me Beelzebub has a league he set aside for me, for me, for meeeeee... So you think you can kick us and spit in our eye So you think that you hate us, but you don't know why Ooh baby, just got to get out of here baby Just got to get out, just got to get right out of here. Nothing really matters, anyone can see Nothing really matters. Nothing really matters to me. Issue 026 - May 1996