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Oh what glory, oh what glee
The weakest team? But we scored Three!
With shabby kit and scruffy hair
They didn't look a team to fear
And from the off we pushed them back
With wave on wave of fast attack
Smithy in the thick of things
Mills and Hartey down the wings
Ollie biting ankles deep
Harrys, skillful, fast and fleet
A free kick just outside the box
There's gunpowder in Ian's socks
If only Batty's exocet
Had found it's way into the net
They'd have to listen to our screams
within that "theatre of dreams"
"Wake me up" I think I said
When Hartey's cross found Smithy's head
"Is this the entrance to Dreamland?"
Number three from Ferdinand.
Now let me make this very plain
Whatever happens out in Spain
Forever we'll recall this night
When memories of boys in white
Grew before our dewey eyes
Stepping closer to the prize
Sturdy hearts and steady heads
Will get us through the second leg
And after last years final four
We'll surely want it all the more
Football's such a funny game
What goes around comes round again
Revenge too sweet for any novel
Bayern, 2-0, in the final!
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