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Football and fighting and killing
don't mix
A trip to Belgrade was to complex to fix
A city so recently ravaged by war
Was no place to settle a footballing score
Though Partizan passion fought hard to proceed
Herenveen, Holland played host to the teams
A game of high drama, of tension and farce
The chief scored his annual goal, sat on his arse
Contrasting memories of cold Moscow nights
Three up at half-time, Harry in tights!
Moscow again, but because it was cold there
Spartak suggested we played them in Chechnya
An easy dilema for UEFA to fix
'cause football and fighting and killing don't
mix
Sofia, then, and it wasn't much warmer
'til Harry (in gloves) scored to take us to Roma
Shirt sleeves at last in Italian spring
Nigel, the hero, stops everything
Beautiful Prague, with three goals in reserve
Enough to protect the result we deserve
Silverware, suddenly, temptingly near
Our first semi-final in twenty-five years
Newspaper headlines scream "welcome to hell"
The blackest of nights when the season's dreams
fell
You can't compare losing a cup tie to life
Think of the mothers, the children, the wife
If the future is Europe, I'll stay "in the
sticks"
'cause football and fighting and killing don't
mix
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