“Minor Soft Spot”
¶ 1
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I’m going to be late
For the FA Vase
Bus stuck in Forest Hill
Behind a procession of cars.
Mildly annoying
Rather than doing my nut
But it’s only Fisher
So I just sit here and tut.
Truth is I don’t mind
The Bermondsey team
We’ll never be the rivals
They think to seem.
They were always a club built on sand
Now their name kept alive
By their loyal band.
Remnants of the old incarnation
That played above their station
Bankrolled by the drug habits
Of the entire nation.
Finally left to die
By a shady property deal
Now at a level that’s
Honest and real.
What does it matter that
They can’t compete
Just existing right now
Is a genuine feat.
I wonder if my Club
Went belly up
Would we survive like them
Or come unstuck?
So while many of my fellow fans
Go ‘what the hell?’
I’m one of the few
Who wish Fisher FC well.
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