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I know when you part with your hard earned
You’re entitled to say what you like
Where I watch it don’t seem the lesson gets learnt
When it comes down to taking… The Michael.
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Some priceless jewels have shone at our place
Indeed dazzled our crowd with their skill?
Yet I’ve looked on amazed as distorted faces
Look fit to burst, primed for the kill.
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Do these chants that are spiteful, inspire set alight
The spark of desire a teams need to win?
I’ve heard said the madness of drowning out a national anthem
Was enough reason for really getting stuck in.
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We’ve all heard the vitriol aimed at: Thierry Henry,
Patrick Viera, Steven Gerrard and Wayne Rooney.
Robbie Savage, Roy Keane, Craig Bellamy
Carlos Tevez, David Beckham and Emile Heskey.
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All this madness about me, deems I question fan sanity
So I retain equilibrium by chanting like thus:
“You can jeer, insult, boo, if that’s what does it for you
Me? I wish him whom you diss played for us?”