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¶ 1
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I just want a player who’s good at his job,
Doesn’t throw money at you, doesn’t shoot from his gob.
¶ 2
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I don’t want a brand, an icon, a face,
I just want a forward who’s in the right place.
¶ 3
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No big-mouthed night clubber, out seeking “the life”
A player who’s home nights, with children and wife.
¶ 4
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Someone not obsessed with fast cars or fame,
A player who plays for the love of the game.
¶ 5
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Oh, make a few quid, live a life free from rain,
But don’t ram it down my throat time and again.
¶ 6
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Be happy, content, chase the National Shirt,
But don’t be so arrogant, or fans you will hurt.
¶ 7
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The fans who, week in and week out, with their rages,
Put their bums on seats, bums that pay your vast wages.
¶ 8
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Just give something back, with no cameras in view,
Give back to the game, because you want to.
¶ 9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 And just don’t forget, as you draw this week’s pay,
¶ 10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 One day, it’ll end.
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