Good Footballers Here
¶ 1
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We are
Where the good footballers are –
Locked away in our memory banks
Where we can so readily give them thanks
And praise, to those that brought us joy
From small beginnings, whether girl or boy
We can always recall
The wizardry on the ball
And we forget the tackles, that made them wince
Or any troubles, that have happened since
And while the archives, might not do them credit
Our own recollections, can edit
And screen the dross
To showcase the boss
¶ 2
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And, lest we forget, we are
Where the good players are
For were we not ourselves,
Greats, in our own minds
Unsung heroes
Yet with the crowds
Chanting out our names
In our own imaginary games
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