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The penny finally dropped, the Emperor has no clothes;
Deception on a grand scale for the past sixteen years in
The name of raised standards, a better national team – Ha!
Just an excuse to cut the rest adrift, to sink their ambitions
And crush the fans’ hopes of a modest chance of success.
Why bother with promotion when you’ll get stuffed week in
Week out, and have to wait until last on Match of the Day…
Struggling to survive amidst the choking wealth, on and off
The field. Money rules all, and forget the rest – competition
Removed; too dangerous, too risky. A cartel at the top, the
Same middling names – danger for the others. Relegation,
That forbidden word; might as well be in the Blue Square…
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So stick to the Championship (and lower) you sleepy giants.
Big fish in smaller ponds can still make a splash, local rivals
Add spice – the occasional juicy fixture just to keep things
Ticking over. None of that bloated, hype-driven media dirge
That tells us everything is rosy in the Premier garden, where
Foriegn millionaires do fancy tricks with lightweight beach
Balls, and there’s an all-pervasive bullying arrogance from
Players who think they’re too important to be sent off. It’s all
Done to ensure the gravy train keeps rolling. So don’t get
Fooled – don’t be so sure you want to join in. Fixture lists are
Mangled and manipulated; kick off times to suit TV, not you.
Fantasy football; a make-believe world where greed rules all…