I was walking down Lime St.swnging my chain, I met this cockney and I asked him his name, I kicked him in the frollicks and I stabbed him in the head, now that cockney is dead.
Diddle la la la la la la la. etc. for several more verses of savagery. Ha ha I'd forgotten the boot walk. I was a Gwladys st boy by then though my last time in the pen was 1967.
St end myself.
Everbody push back , gap opens .
Some soft get always walked into it,
oh look there is a nice place to stand suddenly .
Then doing the Everton bootwalk starts, at the end na na getting quicker and louder, bouncing up and down, then a mass surge downwards towards the victims , only stopped by a barrier, anything or anybody in the way got either took along with the surge if lucky, got smashed against the barrier, or even worse fell over, ( you had nil chance of getting up) then they would boot hell out of you, unless someone either knew you or took pity on you,.
You either picked yourself up , licked your wounds and sulked off, or joined the ranks and waited for the next victims which was considered good form.
Worse thing anybody could do is get up and shout the odds and get angry(, which thinking about it was the natural thing to do,) as if your face wasn't known everybody and I mean everyone would boot you all over the show.
Never failed to amuse me every week someone would always fall for it.
Sort of a right of passage if you wanted to stand with the lads at the time in the 70's.
Different times , different age
We would all be locked up before kickoff time these days and grassed up more than likely.
Handy if someone was getting on your nerves a little trip and a sly boot and you could watch the fun begin.