by | Sep 2, 2009 | Poetry | 0 comments

He’s a scruffy little kid from Moss Side
And he plays for the Moss Side Reds
He practices each night
By the scrap heap
Him and his mates play the game
One lots United the other lot City
Playing the beautiful game.

At school he is not the brightest
Some say he’s got an empty head,
But he as got his mates and
He is content with that
The scruffy little kid from the Moss.

One day when he is older
Who’s to say
He won’t be
Wearing the Red of United or
Even the Sky Blue of the Blues.

Playing for England at Wembley
Scoring that World Cup Goal
Playing the beautiful game
That scruffy little kid from the Moss.


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