Fickle Or What?
¶ 1
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We praised God in heaven, when one of eleven
William Gallas struck home vital goals
But now he’s a gooner, we rather he sooner
Be damned, now that we’ve Cashly Cole
¶ 2
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Ain’t football fans fickle when having a giggle
After winning a title or two
But don’t you dare leave them, like a geezer from Sweden,
Or their spite will be aimed straight at you
¶ 3
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With a gap in the buzz, in last game at our club
Poor William was slaughtered alive
With terrace cant vicious almost neigh on malicious
Yet he wasn’t out there, amongst twenty five
¶ 4
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He’s left us, he’s gone like the waves we roll on
Toward hopefully, more honours and cups
Let’s be honest now chaps, as we ponder, think back
When William Gallas gave his all for our club!
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