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To hear again the injured pain
From Dolan’s ample mouth,
To read the news and soccer views
Upon the long trip south.
To dodge once more in Inchicore
The tiny pebbles flung
By hard-faced brats in baseball hats,
The pride of Dublin’s young.
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The Brandywell, a living hell,
I yearn to see once more,
And watch the ref pretend he’s deaf
And disallow our score.
To feel again the Longford rain
Would be enough for now,
‘Twould be so sweet, make life complete
And soothe this worried brow.
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One might remark that O2 Park
Is simply too expensive,
But ‘twould be nice to pay the price
And go on the offensive.
Folk may pity Dublin City,
Moneyless and groundless,
But I’d still pay to watch them play
With permutations boundless.
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A friendly game that brooks no fame
Out in the arse of nowhere,
To football’s credit, some might dread it,
But loads of us would go there.
To see once more the Shelbourne score,
To watch them making chances,
‘Twould be a boon not come too soon,
Which time of course enhances.
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A dull and boring, stale, non-scoring
Match would serve to quell
My need for kicks, my football fix
That brings me from my shell.
I’m not greedy, only needy,
Football’s been denied me.
I need to hear supporters cheer
And feel the rush inside me.