Jesse Lingard
¶ 1
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To be Jesse Lingard
Or not to be Jesse Lingard
That is the question why
Whether it be nobler to suffer
The slings and arrows
Of outrageous wage demands
A mind motivated by dirty lucre
The filthy obscenity of excessive
Wealth, Distorted by money
Polluted by the stench of hundreds
And thousands, millions no less
Of floating reams of fivers, tenners,
Twenties, fifties
A mountainous multitude of more
And more, unimaginable, barely
Believable riches
And yet we knew that Jesse Lingard
Is clearly concerned only with
Financial security rather than
Footballing prowess
Feathering nests now
Rather than later
Pampered impossibly
From those early days
At United,
Of course the superstar
When Sir Alex bestowed
Upon Lingard the accolades
And adulation of youth
But now Lingard stifled
And overwhelmed by
His overweening ego
Now Forest join in with
The great auction market
Brian Clough of course
Brought us the first million
Pound Trevor Francis
But now Lingard falls
Headlong into the net
Of temptation, the
Astonishing spectre of
200 grand a week
A moral maze of abomination
The repulsive greed
Football strangled by
Rampant desire, thousands
Of noughts in bank balances
Throttled by the grasping
Hands of capitalism
But before you sign
On the dotted line
Jesse Lingard
Just remember the
London Stadium fans
Who just want you
To play rather than
Build up your accumulating
Fortunes.
And then Lingard
Found his clearing
In the Forest
Hammered into
History
Claret and blue
No longer
In the Irons
Vision anymore
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