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I love football
But I keep it locked inside
I’m not silly about it
I know that there’s more important things.
Like Global warming, terrorism
And all the worrying that that brings.
I suppose, I’ve just got to thinking that there’s nothing much that we can really do
No-one who, we can sue.
So we end up devoting so much of our time, our very body & soul
To an obsession which come match-day, awards itself parole.
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Football triggers feelings that we no longer know
How to control.
If you’re at a dinner party with,
Someone on the dole,
An I.T. technician
And a girl that dances round a pole.
And incommunicado is abound.
It’s football that lets us fill that hole
And find some common ground.
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It’s probably quite shallow
Like Mozart tinkering on the piano
Like that fella Alex Fleming
And his penicillin
Michael Angelo daubing paint on the ceiling
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Because we don’t have to worry anymore
About boiling oil
Ready to pour upon invaders
As they’re scaling up the castle walls
We worry about ‘the congestion charge’
And whether or not we’re eating enough
In the way of vegetables