Dear oh dear
¶ 1
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Dear, oh dear, that was humiliating.
That really wasn’t very good, I fear.
Reus and Őzil bossed us,
made us feel we were imposters
and the mauling dished out cost us
dear, oh dear.
¶ 2
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Jesus Christ, now that was an embarrassment
as through our ranks they effortlessly sliced.
They were standing round and joking,
some were drinking schnapps and smoking
and we ended up invoking
Jesus Christ.
¶ 3
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A mauling was what the Germans gave us.
The gulf in class was utterly appalling.
We dithered convolutedly,
bewildered fans gazed mutedly
on what was undisputedly
a mauling.
¶ 4
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Consolation? Well, the teamwork of the Germans
was worthy of grudging-given ovation.
Little Big Horn? General Custer?
They exposed our brawn and bluster
and our final goal was just a
consolation.
¶ 5
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Our ambition now is just to finish second
if we can bounce back from this attrition.
For it wasn’t very nice now
and it’s hard to give advice now.
Paddy Power, son, what price now
our ambition?
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