The Title Race is Over
And you might tell me it's just a game
And you might think me
far too gone to listen to
But I remember the first time on
that windswept terrace
and so began the longest love of all
Cos I remember when there was a gleam
Cumming, Waters, Drinkell – what a team
All the possibilities of a ball at your feet
I remember
A level surface – a perfect stage
Unscripted drama
A world in ninety minutes flat
Cos even old men still need to dream,
believe in magic,
and sometimes their stories could come true
It isn't like that any more
Shepherd, Glazer, Kenyon slammed the door
More of the possibilities are being closed down each week
But I remember
And in the future the kids will ask
about the football
And I will have to say:
The title race is over, honey pie
We sold your inheritance to Sky
We let the bastards in grey suits take your game
The title race is over. |
