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The sunset red, the purple throng,
The soaring blues, the warriors’ song.
The Pennine hills bring gentle rain
And home team seeks advantage gain.
Thin Lizzy rings around the ground
Phil Lynott’s voice uplifting sound?
The teams emerge, the cameras roll,
And both sides seek an early goal.
The patterns weave, the crowds want more,
Five minutes gone, and City score.
Seven minutes gone, despite the rain,
Man City go and score again.
The Blues third goal, the crowd rebel,
They turn and give The Gaffer hell
Thirty minutes, and number four,
Some Burnley fans head for the door.
The big screen goes beyond the pale,
Ignore the game, houses for sale!
More fans go home with number five,
Thinning the fans in Burnley’s hive.
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The second half begins in rain.
Man City glee? More Burnley pain?
Hell’s teeth, one more, the count builds up,
I doubt we’d win a broke egg cup.
A corner won, the fans go wild.
Their comments are not very mild.
A goal, one back, and some fans faint,
Almost as good as drying paint.
Enough’s enough, the whistle blows,