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No Sylvia Plaith is listed here, no Burns or Robert Service
Just your honest fans who like a beer, and writing makes them nervous
Window cleaners, milkmen, a shop worker or two
Estate agents and bank clerks, to name but just a few.
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No wand’ring lonely as a cloud on Saturday afternoon
But marching boldly to the ground to see Man U or Toon
No time for these to stand and stare at Constable country thatch
At end of day they only care about who has won the match.
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And for those of you who smirk and sneer, and hold your nose aloft
I tell you this sir, and you my dear; they’re by far much better off
Neither cowering timorous beasties, nor writers seeking fame
Each one here at least is a lover of The Game.
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If you with your knowledge of lyrics, and your wonderful skill with a pen
Could share the delight and hysterics, of these fully grown women and men
You would soon lay down your Byron, your Tennyson and all
Live feelings you’d come to rely on, at the wonderful game of football.