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I was in a part of London
What brought infamy to Nell Dunn*
That Chris Difford and Glen Tilbrook praised in song*
When I espied a local inn
Where raucous sounds came from within
Which made me wonder how? The boys were getting on.
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As I made me way toward the jump
Seemed every punter in the pub
Was wearing bins like those worn by Clark Kent
Half cut birds and blokes with bellies
Had trouble focusing on the telly
Seems it’s hard to be a viewer, South of the Thames?
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Whilst I enquired for some refreshment
A rugby match was on one telly
And Wigan – Chelsea on another tube
As that’s game that I went in for
I stood there raked by shock and horror
By a pretty lame excuse Sky deemed a view.
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As The Football got in to its stride
And the rugby match was cast aside
I wondered if us Blues could nick three points
Because last season I recall
Our team was beaten to the spoils
By a Wigan side what probed our weary joints
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There were birds and blokes close by
Continually rubbing squinted eyes
In an effort to get focused on the game
As Chelsea stuck the first away
And made us blue bloods sing and praise
Malouda had a mon ami the same.
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Every player had a double
What resembled his own shadow?
Confusing punters slightly worse for wear
As the only sober fan in pub
I tumbled very soon I must
Get Clark Kent like or I’d best bid au revior.
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Just then a punter stood up straight
In dulcet tones chastised his mate
“These blinking glasses, they ain’t nuffink but a con
A deuce a pair to see through these
A dodgy view they call 3D
Next time I’ll watch for free down betting shop”.
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We watched as Northerners in their cups
Continued sadly looking up
Toward double imaged mediocrity
As every picture told the story
Chelsea cranked it up by scoring
Without Drogba even netting on TV.
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Chelsea won by nought plays three
Though I say that cautiously
It could easily have turned out be six
As I had trouble seeing double
I’m not quite sure of end result
An err one never makes when sat next to the pitch!