City, city, city. City, Man city. Living in the city. Manchester city. Colin Bell, Frannie Lee. Neil Young, Mike Summerbee. Rodney Marsh, Alan Oakes. Tommy Booth and Tony Book.
Matador impaled upon the horns of the beast. Tossed and flipped, a sequined rag-doll. This frightened, tortured, mutilated animal. Has got it's own back once and for all.
Today I've got all that I hope for. Everything. No matter what you think, I'm never falling down. And now I know that there's something more. Something more.
I bought you death by what you say. I can feel the whole thing eat away. I will never be the same again. Now it's time to break it out. . Your life is now a different fate.
54 inch around the chest. Stitching ripping on his vest. Biceps, triceps, ready to flex. A gold medallion around his neck. He looks more like the Michelin Man.
What do you expect from all the shit you say?. How will you nail 'bout lies that you spread everyday?. (When we'll be face to face). How will you pretend that you didn't wanna play the game?.
Oh, where are you now George?. Now that wingers have been laid to rest. And shirts have adverts across their breast. And it's all about who's the richest.
All the runners running downhill. All the throwers with strap-on muscles. Gold, silver, and bronze. To the designer-drugs and anabolic steroids. Random testing doesn't exist.
Somewhere in between the end and the beginning. I found a way to finally. Pick up the pieces of the mess I used to be. And sail away to nowhere. Cause all this time.
Business bought the athletes out. With gold medals and role models. Drugs and media and national pride. Why join in when you can watch it on TV?. So out of the stadiums!.
Come on admit it, it never crossed the line. Geoff Hurst's goal in extra time. In the Third World War at Wembley '66. When England won again, to make it a hat-trick.
So there's nothing that I can do. Cause you know it's true. There's no way I will get through. . I'm holding my breath. Doing my best to stand one again.
From Coca-Cola to TV politics. Cruise missiles to chicken-in-buckets. From words and images to advertising. From Colonel Sanders to cop-car sirens. And now the American Football circus.
Say, what you wanna need to say. Just hide away. I'm sick of remaining in walls that are just made of smoke. Your lies and the fake. Let's go in vain while you're the only one who falls.
Heysel stadium, it's easy to remember. How the game continued despite the disaster. "With all those millions of viewers, we've got to carry on. It would be financial suicide to stop at this point.".
When you ran 'round the block. And you thought you were going to die. You said you'd never run again. And then you had another try. And you felt a little better.
Barry John was the king of Rugby Union. He was fast and agile and extremely good-looking. All you'd see would be a flash of red. Wales were best, 'cause he used his head.
Outside the ground at Luton Town. A crazy opportunist has sprayed upon a wall. A simple proclamation for all to read. "Revolution is a better game than football".
After wading through the flooded toilets. To stand on the crumbling concrete steps. Wind and rain beating in your face. You mumble football's favorite phrase.
You can go out, have a drink or two. And get real good at shootin pool. Stay out as late as you want to. When youre single. . You can take a trip to Vegas any day.