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When you’re struggling away
On one of them days
Where you’d miss if they played with no goalie
You stare in awe at the exit
Shooting off seems your best bet
But…there’s the bond that you’ve formed with what’s holy.
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Then right out of the blue
Rick O’Shay or Mis Cue
Come to your aid and you’re saved
Then its “Back at our place
It’ll be a whole different ball game”
As pure chance turns the cynical brave.
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Though the cup tie was fraught
The lower league side had fought
Tooth and nail till the beep signalled fin
Then all of a sudden
The train ride back to London
Was euphoric like after a win.
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Upcoming replay was played
Through out the aisles of the train
As heated views warmed up the mood
Were we really that bad?
Seems the best chance we’d had
Was O’Shays one the whole afternoon.
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On arrival at Euston
You’d rush to the newstand
Where “The Sundays” confirm what you’ve seen
Whilst that bloke in The People
Who hates us, who’s evil
In big bold capitals … typographically slaughters your team!