The Ballad of Seven-Three

It was a dull and dreary night
But not one week before
When ’gainst opponents dressed in white
The Forest failed to score

Nor even make a half a chance
To satisfy their fans
And stood as if put in a trance
To lose against the Rams

So little hope did follow us
As we made our way
Up north in car or train or bus
To play the Leeds away

A penalty was cheaply gifted
To put us behind quick
But hopes and spirits quickly lifted
With Adlène’s divine kick

And though one-all would represent
A pleasing half-time score
The Forest boys would not relent
and clearly wanted more

And so it was we took the lead
A sweet McCleary strike
And maybe then we dared believe
It was to be our night

But what transpired come the second
Was more than ever dreamed
A three-one victory a-beckoned
Or briefly so it seemed

When in two minutes hopes were dashed
By Leeds’ swift comeback
And Forest fans did fear collapse
Under strength of their attack

But young McCleary struck goal again
Restor’d was the advantage
Then twice more to make his name
The subject of our chantage

And Blackstock capped off the rout
To make the total seven
From Elland Road the fans came out
In hell or very heaven

So happy birthday, Brian Clough
We hope that you are pleased
And trust that seven was enough
To put past bloody Leeds