May The Blues You Chose Live Long.
¶ 1
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As expectant fans take a breather from happenings on the pitch
One whose fame for the beautifull game that never made him rich
Strides out on to sacred ground where he and his team mates
Had won the league despite fatigue in front of massive gates
In days of yore when offside lore was written in your mind
So that when defences pushed out you were not left behind
The fans eyes leave their programmes, stop munching on their pies
Applaud and laud Roy Bentley so modest and so wise
He feigns to shoot there in his suit at eighty five years of age
Applauds the hordes of blue boys who stand and sing his praise
Roy the boy is clapping and cheering on the team as Arjen Robben Warms up this scene is sure surreal
The king of brylcreemed idols strides around the pitch as a young Dutch winger sponsored by an Arab airline practises his tricks
The old are here as are the new two generations divided
By fifty years of titlelessness thats about to be decided
This curse is dead now mourn it as passes on
To Roy Bentley and Arjen Robben
May the blues you chose live long!
¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 peace.
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