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Did the sun rise today? It did, of course.
And did you give that fact a second thought?
You heedless went about your ways, I’m sure.
They say a man was bitten by a dog.
Yet none was heard to yell: “Hold the front page”!
Last May the Reds brought home the Euro Cup.
No surprise. They had done so before.
Will do so again, no doubt.
But, Everton in Europe?
Now, there was a turn-up for the books!
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‘Tis not the mordant hound, the rise nor set of sun
That take our breath away and strike us dumb.
It is the shooting star that jolts us from our torpor,
And makes us gasp “Ooh, ah”!
The Toffees in Europe!
Who would have thought it?
Who could credit it?
Hands up those who did not pinch themselves.
Now, like some falling meteor our Euro Dream has fizzled out.
Our tour of foreign parts from mem’ry fades.
Our good ship docked at but two ports of call:
Villareal and Bucharest.
Oh, bitter, bitter night in Bucharest,
Where sweet, long-cherished hopes were laid to rest.
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It was one, two, three. One, two, three, four, five.
Want to know how we all felt?
Like we’d been skinned alive!
We thought out in Romania we would have an easy ride.
But we’re left to lick our wounds and try to nurse our injured pride.
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Up front our guns weren’t blazing, the midfield was a shambles.
And shots were raining on our goal, fired in from every angle.
We got turfed out of Europe, and our heads with shame they droop,
But we’ve still one crumb of comfort: we did no worse than The Hoops!