| In the center of the field
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| stands the favorite player
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| The ball comes floating in They say a silent prayer for him
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| Fifty yards away
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| A minute left to go The reflex at his watch
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| Oh, oh-oh-ohh
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| He cuts into the right
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| Gets past a defender
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| A blur of blue and white
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| The moment has suspended in time
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| One man left to beat
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| He can see the goalkeeper’s eyes
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| There’s magic in his feet
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| Oh, oh-oh-ohh
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| And a single ray, of sunlight
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| Reaches down to touch, the golden boy
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| Seems to light his way, towards the net
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| In his mind, he sees the headlines
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| In the morning newspaper.
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| This’ll be a day, they won’t forget
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| Now he’s on his own
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| Completely in control of it all
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| The shot comes flying in Headed for the corner of the goal
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| Bounces off the post
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| He watches as it falls, oh-ohh
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| Everyone will say
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| «He should have passed the ball»
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| Now the crowd has gone
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| The stadium is empty
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| Several hundred times
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| He will watch the replay on TV
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| Many years from now
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| When his name’s recalled
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| Everyone will say
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| «He should have passed the ball»
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| He should have passed the ball |