Hooligan eyes

The hills are alive with the sound of music
but down in the city lies hell
and hell froze over, on January eighth
so now is the time for fulfillment and hate

The mountains abound in calm and in peace
but the leaves whisper all about lies
and reality lies in the toll of the bell
and the fire in your hooligan eyes

Your hooligan eyes are the deepest of blue
but nothing inside hides your ego
it’s small and it’s scared and it hides you from you
and turns it all into Stratego

Your hooligan eyes light up leading the charge
as it ripples right into the ranks
and the horses behind smell the small and large
of your fear they might soon become tanks

But you summon your anger and run for the front
it’s a family affair, after all
Your brothers would have your cojones for breakfast
if they would see you were to stall

So move, and fight, and make it all last
but make it all last really fast
‘Cause it’s only three quarters to start, of the game
and that’s what we all came here for
It’s only three quarters, and not to be lame
to us all of this is a bore
To us all of this is a turn of events
that you just don’t respect among gents
To us all of this is a waste of your time
and our money: we came here to watch them play ball –
we could have it all

The beautiful game we all learned to adore
can’t wait for the score
The beautiful game, home to our dreams
you sometimes forget, so it seems
The beautiful game, the swells of our pride
Take your hooligan lies and go hide
The beautiful game, the one we will win
Atone for your sin
The beautiful game, the stuff we are made of
(fuck Bernie Madoff)
The beautiful game (dal coda ad lib)