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Why do you try to cheat?
In order, p’rhaps not to get beat?
Don’t you know it is wrong to dive inside the box?
Don’t you know it is wrong to try the Ref to con?
You’d better stop. Let’s see some fairplay, Boyo.
Leave a comment on verse 2 0
Why do you punch and kick?
Is it because you’re thick?
And ain’t quite grasped the rules?
What did you learn in school?
I’m sure they taught you there that wee word “fairplay”, Boyo.
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Why the professional foul?
Why bring a poor kid down?
Yes, Willie Young, I mean you!
You pulled Paul Allen’s shirt. You made him bite the dirt.
You thought that I’d forgot? I’ve a long mem’ry, Boyo!
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Why did you score with your fist?
There was no need for this.
You had a head and two feet.
You could have found the Net with all your skills, your gift.
I hope the Hand of God will smack your bottom, Pibe.
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Why do you tap players up?
Then cry: “It weren’t me, Guv!”?
Don’t you know it’s a crime to poach from other clubs,
Do shady deals, stuff envelopes with wads?
Why not arrange transfers in clear, broad daylight, Boyo?
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I think there’s something wrong
With this once noble Game.
We’re to the back teeth sick of your corrupt antics.
Come on, clean up your Act,
Give us some fairplay, Boyo.