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April 17, 2012

 

 

Like dumbstruck dudes we stood and watched

Our team coach pull away

Then slunk back to our waiting cars

And headed towards the motorway

 

The long ride home would seem longer still

We felt as sick as hell

Our side had lost another ‘dead cert’

Though our top player did quite well.

 

But a one man team, without support

Is not the key to success.

So we’ll struggle on as best we can

As our finances are in a mess.

 

The ‘transfer deadline’ came and went

As all hope of fresh faces faded.

If we lose next week to the bottom club

I feel our pitch will be invaded!

 

It’s not a joke, it’s just not on.

We scrimp and save all season.

So it’s no wonder we feel gutted

When we lose without good reason

 

To sack the manager would cost good money

That the club truly hasn’t got.

So with a golden handshake out of the question

Our season’s not looking too hot.

 

The thrill of being in the top flight

Has been short lived, to say the least.

We need to win our next ten games

And turn this goal famine into a feast.

 

 

 

 

 

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