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The non-league side (always called ‘plucky’)
Were through to the next round
They watched the draw and hoped to be lucky
Hoping to go to a big ground.
Out came their number and they were at home
And they waited with baited breath
Before it was revealed the giants would come
Fans screams rendered bystanders deaf.
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But the cosy little ground just wouldn’t cope
It was so small it wasn’t funny
So they seeked out a larger place with hope
Of securing much more money.
But some begrudged them this great payday,
A chance to sustain their existence
They said ‘There’s no magic nowadays
In the cup, it’s all just pretence’.
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But who were these voices of dissent?
Not the plucky non-league team
And the giants didn’t insist they prevent
Playing at their ground it seems.
So where do they appear?
From the rose-tinted eyes of neutrals who never
Seem to mind if a team so mere