Our Dad
¶ 1
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Our Dad he played just like a King
Upon the pitch was sound
Jumpers goalposts we would fling
And left ’em on the ground
¶ 2
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Our Dad he raced and leaped up high
With goals he wore the crown
Til skills like dreams all went to seed
And scattered on the ground
¶ 3
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Our Dad he never made the grade
But Saturday’s we were proud
With bursting hearts and bloodied knees
We cheered him in the ground.
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