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It’s the day after Christmas
When all through the house
Not a sound can be heard
No bouncing cutlery, plastic plates, beaker
Or yells of “MUM!” or “DAD!”
Not a hiss from the usual incessant T.V.
At last home to myself,
Under the watchful eye of my baby sitter
Thankfully whose lips are sealed.
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Second half is the case of
Out of the frying pan into the fire,
Tigers rule the plain,
Boro have not turned up it would seem
If this was cricket
They would have been tried and convicted
Of match fixing
But this is Boro
Returning to their bad old days?
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With only three minutes on the clock
Hammered on to the Iron and steel of Teesside
And the hearts of Boro fans,
Ball buried in the back of the Tigers net
Boro march on!