| come gather round the court
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| come sweat and scream for your favourite team
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| as you cheer and down a beer
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| you think they’re looking like they could be back in form this year;
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| they’re sporting all the name gear
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| they got the shoulder-smacking corporate-backing
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| lights ablaring things are happening
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| you see the media sacarin glistening on their tongues
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| they’ll be climbing up the rungs to the top of the industry echelons
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| keep it going on cos they didn’t just come to play they came to win
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| pros like them know losing is a sin
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| and when it comes down to handling their balls
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| these boys’ll give it their all from hand to eye
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| down the line super fine control
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| backhand forehand underhand power plays
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| they’ll be leaving all the opposition in a stunned daze
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| fast man
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| they leave the rest behind
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| you find they always have the last laugh
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| as the crowd roar
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| music is sport (x2)
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| the fests are the test they’re like the musical olympics
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| or like grand final meets without the seats
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| it’s band vs. band in an action packed day of non stop play off
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| where’s the fucking pay off?
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| one gets the mic
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| one makes the pass
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| one executes the play
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| time for a mexican wave
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| crowd goes wild for racket skills
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| i teach lessons in regression but it sure don’t pay the bills
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| what the hell we hitting for?
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| record companies keeping score;
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| trying to get those shiny plaqued trophies for the office wall
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| pumping out the hits to feed the media blitz
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| now watch the swollen champs blow the champers on bikini clad tits
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| busted through a banner backstage
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| high five and then we pray to god;
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| before we play to the throbbing mob
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| so if you’re ever on the sideline or sweating on the court
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| just remember my friends
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| music is sport (x4) |