Fields of Red
¶ 1
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I am the King of the road
Majestic in my boredom
Sat high above
Not your stream of poppies
Celebrated at the Tower
But red specks
As far as the eye can see.
Crawling along
Ahead of me
On the road down to Maidstone.
My thoughts turn to the players
Who went on their adventure
And never returned to board
The matchday charabanc again.
Awayday drudgery
From the luxury
Of a seat on the team coach
A hundred years on.
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