When They Rattle That Bag On The Telly.
¶ 1
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When they rattle that bag on the telly
So the numbers get truly mixed up
Watch the stoutest of legs turn to jelly
Awaiting the “Draw For The Cup”.
¶ 2
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Discreet radios hidden in schoolyards
Tinnily whispering the state of our luck
Every match printed later on paper placards
In bold type roared out “Draw For The Cup”.
¶ 3
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Mid day editions were full of it
White Horse Final, Stanley Matthews type stuff
Our dreams gaining clarity free from the mist
Nearing Wembley, via the “Draw For The Cup”.
¶ 4
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Are we: going up North, or the Midlands
Is our paper round money enough
For a cheap day return and a ticket to stand
Now we know of the “Draw For The Cup”.
¶ 5
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Our fate in the hands of retired pros
History made with every spherical plucked
Reading each number slowly so everyone knows
Who we’ll meet in the “Draw For The Cup”?
¶ 6
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“Abide With Me”, a day out at Wembley
Beautiful thoughts that our minds conjure up
“Ten Men Went To Mow”, a final (sic) rendition of “Celery”
Belted out loud, all inspired by the “Draw For The Cup!”
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