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All of a sudden,
The others look wooden,
Their movement perceptibly static.
They don’t cut a dash,
Don’t attack with panache,
Their build-ups controlled, but phlegmatic.
But one team stands out,
For there isn’t a doubt
They look faster and fitter and leaner,
Its not S and M
(Six fine goals knocked past them!)
But the Candystripe boys Argentina.
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Those twenty four passes
Inspired the masses
And had all the panellists raving.
That goal will be shown
To kids not fully grown
With a football-perfectionist craving.
Yes, some have looked decent
In matches quite recent,
But none have looked sharper and keener
Than the yelling, trail-blazing
Candystripe boys, Argentina.
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When Lampard shoots wildly, the press yell “Bad luck!
At least he gets into position!”
When poor old Ronaldo cannot break his duck,
They call him a man on a mission.