Beautiful Game
¶ 1
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As the seasons come then race away
And hopes all turned to dust
Fortunes made and fortunes spent
Of titles won, and lost
¶ 2
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What price this love this fickle dream
Which binds with such a bond
That turns us all defenceless fools
And smitten every one
¶ 3
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What other love could hold so fast
And cause such joy despair
What other love could hope to last
What other love would dare?
¶ 4
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Are we so weak we can’t deny
Have we so little say?
To drive this passion from our hearts
Like night steals off with day
¶ 5
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Not I for moments Dalglish gleaned
For goals that Rushie cleaved
And for the wit of Shankly’s heart
My own would still receive
¶ 6
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For the Anfield Iron who lived the dream
And gave us all a glimpse
Of heaven come back down to earth
Those times I wouldn’t have missed
¶ 7
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For Bobby Moore whose dignity
Could not be cast in stone
His presence and his genius
Served best in blood and bone
¶ 8
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The magic of the Magyars
Their football blew the Lion’s away
No better men on Wembley’s turf
Played with passion and with grace
¶ 9
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There’s a hero down at Highbury
His name is Charlie George
The darling of the North Bank Crowd
His boots could charm the ball
¶ 10
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The English had a party
The World Cup 1966
Bobby Charlton wept for joy
Whilst Nobby did a jig
¶ 11
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The green and white of Celtic
The pride of 1967
Gave Jock Stein immortality
And took the bhoys to heaven
¶ 12
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The technicolour spectacle
That was the ‘70 World Cup
The samba boys served us a treat
And shook the whole world up
¶ 13
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The treble for Joe Fagan in 84
We danced with joy around the stars
But then the pain and shame of Heysel
Broke this great man’s humble heart
¶ 14
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The faithless hand of Maradona
The perfect turn of Johann Cruyff
The languid beauty of Platini
No resentful devil could destroy
¶ 15
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The wisdom of Matt Busby
The spells of Georgie Best
The beauty of Eusebio
The earth was truly blessed
¶ 16
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The poise of Danny Blanchflower
The goals of Just Fontaine
That lightning that is Michael Owen
The hair of David James
¶ 17
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The might that was Di Stefano
The prose of Cantona
The world that sits at Rooney’s feet
The steel in Keano’s heart
¶ 18
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The feats of Stanley Matthews
The wizard of the wing
The majesty of Tom Finney
By God his boots could sing
¶ 19
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The demons of Paul Gascoigne
Could not put out his fire
And the angel that was Rossi
Paid the devil back his lies
¶ 20
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There was a man he played for Liverpool
Billy Liddell is his name
The Angels gave him golden wings
And he used them wisely every game
¶ 21
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On heaven’s park he’s playing now
First name when God picks His team
Blowing like a hurricane
Through every Redman’s dream
¶ 22
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The knives of Goicoechea
Disguised as football boots
The Men In White of Liverpool
Y’know those awful Wembley suits
¶ 23
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The loss of Duncan Edwards
That save of Gordon Banks
The England pens of 1990
Condemned to firing blanks
¶ 24
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The glory of the Champions League
The pitch of bedroom floors
The Sunday players with their dreams
Of goals they’ll never score
¶ 25
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The miracles of Pele
Gave vision to the blind
Whilst the long runs of Garrincha
Left all the rest behind
¶ 26
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The chips of Liam Brady
The jinks of Alan Ball
The madness that pursues all Lear’s
Football has it all
¶ 27
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The shining light that was Puskas
Showed all others the way
With such beautiful football
That only he could play
¶ 28
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The selfless heart of Walter Tull
A legend whose story must be told
Many more may match his skill
But none can match his brave soul
¶ 29
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The energy of Colin Bell
The loyalty of Steve Bull
The blood of Terry Butcher
From the Swedish cull
¶ 30
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The penalties of Stuart Pearce
A nation held its breath
And when redemption came at last
3 lions roared on its chest
¶ 31
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The treble for Man Utd
Put their watching ghosts to rest
The Nou Camp on that balmy night
A wild Mancunian fest
¶ 32
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The trials of Tony Adams
Showed the world his honesty
He beat the battle of the booze
And returned with dignity
¶ 33
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The cool of Kaiser Beckenbauer
The cannon that was Gerd
The goals that thundered from his boots
The whole of football heard
¶ 34
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Bob Paisley in his flat cap
Desired no other crown
The first to win 3 Euro Cups
His replacement still not found
¶ 35
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The black and white of Newcastle
With Wor Jackie as their King
Now there’s Alan Shearer
Giving the magpies songs to sing
¶ 36
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The toe of David Beckham
The head of Billy Dean
The faith of every football fan
Following their team
¶ 37
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All Scousers know the glory
That was that night in Rome
We wiped away our Wembley tears
And danced around the town
¶ 38
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The boots of Zinedine Zidane
Made history for the French
And proved at once beyond all doubt
That Le Foot is mightier than Le Pen
¶ 39
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The lightning heels of Michael Owen
The strength and power of Paul Scholes
The style of Raul and Luis Figo
A lesson in football to behold
¶ 40
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The magic boots of little Zola
When he wore them he walked tall
The precision of Roberto Carlos
Lets him see right through walls
¶ 41
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There’s the grace of Edgar Davids
The football pitch is his stage
The boyish heart of Bobby Robson
Envied by those half his age
¶ 42
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Rivaldo Ronaldo & Ronaldhino
Lived out their wildest dreams
Left the World Cup hopes of Germany
Ripped at the seams
¶ 43
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Viera Henry and Pires
Like three football musketeers
Their silky skills brings teams to their knees
And leaves the fans in floods of tears
¶ 44
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Those famous saves of Chilavert
The magician’s tricks of Ademir
The snapping boots of Rattin
Let you know that he was near
¶ 45
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King Kenny going for The Double Double
The Scouse Brazilians of ‘88
But then my father died and words to say
I’d already left too late
¶ 46
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From Turf Moor down to Deepdale
The Bridge and White Hart Lane
From the Bernebeu to backyard walls
The dreams are all the same
¶ 47
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And of all those dreams we ever dream
We share that special one
To don the colours pull on the shirt
And be their chosen son
¶ 48
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So hearts may well be broken
A thousand times and more
Life will still be blessed or cursed
On that final score
¶ 49
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The sadness of Hillsborough
The injustice that remains
96 innocent souls lost that day
Football will never be the same
¶ 50
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There are children born to football
And their hearts their clubs will claim
For they’re the symbol of the passion
And the future of this Beautiful Game…
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