Letras
Oh the Junior B All-Star, don't you forget,
Middle of may haven't started training yet
No hats, flags or handbands, no painted cars
We just turn up, go out and pull hard
Our goalkeeper he's 32,
came straight from mass, plays wearing his shoes
Full back 9, not the best on earth
Wait til they finish their Junior Cert
So drop your can, mark your man, get off that girl and grab your hurl
For rounding up lads, numbers are slacked
Even John Fenton is making a comeback
Come of the man, come of the hour
When he puts on that jersey he's got superpowers
J-U-N-I-O-R-B, that's the sport of Kinstanee
Henry Shefflin, Eoin Kelly
You wouldn't last at Junior B
For cones and drills, we do not care
Give me high balls in tennis-square
J-U-N-I-O-R-B, he could be from Cork, Ballyduff or Mullingar,
He's a Junior B All-Star
Our centre-forward, club's stall-ward
Breaks up the pay cause he's so awkward
Doubles on the ball does he try to catch
He hits 6 wides, got man of the match
Ah the legends of Junior B,
we've had the same full forwards since the 70's
Straps up the knee headin' into battle
He invented the third man tackle
Swinging the elbows,
giving out shiners, this is no place for county minors
Sticks up the hand, like god almighty
Hasn't scored since Italia '90
Smells of cider, loves to pull hard,
always gets away with a yellow card
J-U-N-I-O-R-B, that's the sport of Kinstanee
Henry Shefflin, Eoin Kelly
You wouldn't last at Junior B
For flags and cones, we do not care
Give me high balls in tennis-square
J-U-N-I-O-R-B, he could be from Bray, Ballyhea or Castlebar,
He's a Junior B All-Star
If you're 24 stone,
from pints and breakfast rolls,
we've a place for you if you can score goals
If you can't lift or strike but like a few pints,
I'll put you on the textlist for Wednesday night