Pretending We’re Not At The Top
¶ 1
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flying high upon the hill
where sheep will graze and time stands still
we pinch ourselves and have to stop
pretending we’re not at the top
¶ 2
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the silence broken with a roar
the joy from fans each time we score
we hold our breath no words to say
we cannot be carried away
the tables we’ve learned to ignore
we’ve been here once or twice before
¶ 3
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this long-held dream that hangs like thread
against the best the land has bred
these names that echo history
who find themselves here in this league
and pray a quick return be made
it doesn’t always work that way..
and far beyond the wins the tears
that lasted for seventeen years
this level that’s become our home
for so long now the place we’ve known
¶ 4
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the hope the push the tiny chance
to dare to think we might advance
and would we last a little higher
like tiny logs into the fire?
but still we long and still we dream
from South Stand to some tiny stream
in pubs or in some warm café
in Nailsworth Stroud and far away
¶ 5
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but flying high upon the hill
where sheep will graze and time stands still
we pinch ourselves and have to stop
pretending we’re not at the top
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