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Love, come inside and leave those wet shoes in the alcove,
dinner’s in the fry pan but you’ll have to re-heat the stove.
I’m afraid we couldn’t wait and it’s a little past its prime,
Silly me, I should’ve known that cup games go to extra time…
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It didn’t – we were bad enough to lose in the regulation ninety
so much for all the talk “our attack, sharp, our defence, mighty”.
We’ve been downing them at the pub since just before five
How could that idiot ref not see that tumble was a dive?
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They nicked an early lead, then proceeded to park the bus.
Had the hide to celebrate, showing off, right there in front of us.
Of course, the scorer was that bloke we decided to release,
he provoked a few of the boys into a rumble with the police
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We’d thrash this mob of journeymen every other day of the week
but when it actually meant something we turned the other cheek.
Can’t believe this after winning at The Hawthorns in the last round
I thought – oh, yes – a second division side at our home ground!
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Gee love, don’t get yourself all agitated again, all worked up
I bet they tried hard but sometimes your name’s not on the cup.
Remember there’s more to life, there’s no point in you moping
Now you can go to your sister’s wedding and fix that roof coping…
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Oh great, that’s better than Wembley, you never understand the hurt
year after year of expectation, frustration, of believing in that shirt.
You don’t feel it like I do, like all us local lads do, this sense of shame
and don’t dare suggest there’s always next year or that it is just a game