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So when I took my seat that Saturday
It seemed an age since I’d seen us play
“Hello Pat (Er my name is Kev) have you been away?”
Said the bloke what sits in front of me, who still forgets my name.
(After, I don’t know how many home games?)
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At two each he was really angry
Three points had seemingly slipped away
Putting his head down in to his hands
In a kind of way accepting (as we fans do) today was not his day.
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When Everton stuck a late one in our net
He sheepishly hid a smile
As the air turned blue midst a hue of “Bleating heck’s”
(I think that’s what we were saying) you could have heard for miles.
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In the drama of seven minutes injury time
I was confident we’d score
So we all stood up, except this new found mate of mine
Who just like me, had probably seen it all before.
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We equalized in the final minute
So that was it three each
As my new found mate said when he shook my mitt,
“A great game for the neutral” through dourly gritted teeth.
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The final whistle went and we stood up
To applaud the players off, with a huge sigh of relief
We parted company as fans do, and as I ran to catch the bus
It suddenly dawned on me. I’d given that Evertonian…
The last one of my sweets.