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Nil – nil beamed the plasma
On my arrival in the bar
I’d missed ten minutes of the action
So things were looking good thus far
For punters on the street outside
Pints and fags in hand
Sat watching Sky on screens that wide
And a better view than in the stands.
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We were giving it to Rooney
They deem Torres past his prime
As fans with too much booze
On board, had trouble focusing both eyes
When Rooney put them one nil up
From a peach like pass from Giggs
Were we bothered? Seemingly not too much
Same thing had happened in the league.
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Torres had his chances
Drogba wouldn’t pass
Frankie Lampard scuffed one then glanced
Ironically toward Edwin Van Der Saar
Both sets of fans were up in arms
Questioning every call
Singing their songs from packed out stands
Frenetically kicking every ball.
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Historically we’re fickle,
Trite and quick to judge
Us screaming hordes what know so little
Yet could run most football clubs?
When we part with hard earned readies
We deem it guaranteed
Our voice be heard by whole eleven
Or our crazy game plans, be believed.
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Watch fraught faces on the telly
While injury time runs down
Or inside pubs when hearing: Penalty
From all those refs stood in the crowd
When the game goes on and the moments gone
Have you ever seen a ref?
Stop proceedings and award a luckless team
An:“Okay although I didn’t see it pen?”
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Last night as the final whistle blew
Our skipper deemed it fit
To raise the penalty question,why? Although he knew
When final whistles goes that’s it
As irate punters watched the replays
Lividly screaming hands on head
I left the boozer with a smiling face
Looking toward the second leg!