Traces of Gregory’s Girl
¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 “It’s so hard being in love, eh?”
¶ 2
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I’m used to shocks….
FA Cup exits to minnows
League Cup Final defeats
Stevie G’s slip
World Cup non-qualification (when “the Clown” came to town)
England losing to Finland
And for the green-gilded side of me
so pleasantly shocked
when Quinny scuffed past van Breukelen
when Houghton headed past Shilton
when Houghton chipped Pagliuca, in Giants stadium in ‘94
and oh the roar –
not in Chinatown, Manhatten nor the Bronx
but a mickery-mackery merriment
that hadn’t been heard for yonks…
¶ 3
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I say again:
I’ve been used to shocks…
goals timed by Fergie’s clocks…
deflections in off pads in socks…
scrawny scorers, Scots from Lochs…
an “oarsome” finish, from Simon Cox…
a devilish tune, from Johnny Foxx… (Underpass)
¶ 4
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but what has me most aghast
is a face from the past
that skinny, lanky one from Gregory’s Girl (aye, a fitba flick)
(and my yardstick)
that wee bawbag of a Gommy
now lining out
as a shaven headed, biker-leathered, druggy thuggy
and who now graces
the fixatingly fervid forensic…
tenterhookin’ “Traces”
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