A little Christmas footy poem from a little free moment of mine to a large club of yours:
A ray of light filtered by an absinth bottle on the offside
Get in! shout "the voice, I will say not while I will go all the way out and in
Cementing myself into crime? No way, I'm far white collar more than due
Run my player, run and run you gorgeous rubicund dream of mine
The ball on your foot be aware of it don't let it slip on the right way
Red is the colour of the laces that you will eat
and eat is the Christmas gift that will make your dark home being heat
you giant running rottambolesco prick
Waiting for your next play I clap your hands and say can I may?
A little Christmas footy poem from a little free moment of mine to a large club of yours:
A ray of light filtered by an absinth bottle on the offside
Get in! shout "the voice, I will say not while I will go all the way out and in
Cementing myself into crime? No way, I'm far white collar more than due
Run my player, run and run you gorgeous rubicund dream of mine
The ball on your foot be aware of it don't let it slip on the right way
Red is the colour of the laces that you will eat
and eat is the Christmas gift that will make your dark home being heat
you giant running rottambolesco prick
Waiting for your next play I clap your hands and say can I may?