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Don’t wanna be a goalie

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Don’t wanna be a goalie,
The last line of defence,
Don’t wanna use mi hands,
It makes mi fingers tense.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Don’t wanna be a goalie,
And stand there on my own,
Catch one, save one, miss one,
And get changed on my own.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 I’ve only been a goalie,
Coz Mum don’t sew too straight,
And Number one was easier,
Than seven, nine or eight.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Don’t wanna be a goalie,
And only catch the brunt,
Of the cool slick dead-eyed pretty boys,
Who pose around up front.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 “You couldn’t save your bacon,
You couldn’t catch a cold.
Spread yer butter fingers,
And put yer hands on hold!”

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 So I’ve cordonned off the goalmouth,
And boarded up the goal,
The safest pair of hands,
Are them what stay at home.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Alistair Higham
Nottingham

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Notes

Alistair Higham, mainly writes humourous poems on tennis.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/dont-wanna-be-a-goalie/