Come Home Michael Owen
¶ 1
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Sat alone warming the bench
You must be bored son
Watching football more than playing
Mulling over the decision you made
Now the dreams begin to fade and grow old
And there are old dreams
Lining up like penalty takers
The days of gold shirts and Cardiff
FA Cups and UEFA Cups
We didn’t sing your name enough
A sad return for such wonderful goals
Match winning dream weaving goals
Such goals born for Istanbul eh?
Come home Michael
Forge new partnerships
Let the bench grow cold.
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