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Dear David
I thought I'd better write
I wrote a poem in Janu'ry that wasn't too polite
I questioned your selection and I called some
players names
I said you'd got your squad and that "it's
time to win some games"
I didn't mean to dis' you or to get up on your
back
I never even contemplated calling for the sack
It's easy to look back and say I should have been
more patient
But the championship was gone and I was dreading
relegation
Yet since that time each game you play you win
and win again
You even celebrated when you lost the two in Spain
I really am so sorry for the things that I said
that
I'm going to change my name now, and sign my name,
forever:
PRAT
(Cue girlie/Dido chorus of Marching on Together)
Dear David
I heard it was your birthday
I hope you had a good one and I really wanted
to say
I never ever realised that you were forty-three
Hey my birthdays October so you're just as old
as me
It made me think we're probably the same in other
ways
My hair is dark, I'm fairly tall, I have a wife
who prays
I also have a daughter who hates it when you lose
She says I sulk, won't make the tea, and go right
off my food
Which probably explains the reasons why I wrote
my poem
I wasn't eating often at the rate that you were
going
I shouldn't get so passionate about a football
match
But I guess you have that passion too - I saw
it when you called me:
PRAT
(more girlie/ Dido warblings)
Hey David
I know it's me you meant
When I saw you on the TV talking 'bout the one
percent
Please understand the family stand that gave me
inspiration
Was never being disloyal, just felt anger and
frustration
When the trophies and performances that most of
us expected
Were well beyond a shadow team so badly decimated
A body count so low that there could be no squad
rotation
And all the while, behind the scenes, the court
case preparation
I shouldn't be surprised that in the midst of
such adversity
That ill constructed criticism becomes insensitivity
I'm pleased you've proved my fears wrong with
your meteoric rise
I plead for your forgiveness, I repent, Apologise
Don't listen to the Arsenal, the Scum or Ireland
rumours
Stay and see the funny side, you've got a sense
of humour
You said the prats know who they are, I've owned
up best I can
Now prove me wrong one last time by winning in
Milan
THE SQUARE BALL SAYS: He's got talent
this one!
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