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41 years of hurt . . .

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  • 41 years of hurt . . .

    I was there when our Champions bid was cruely halted. Bitter, me
    I must away now, I can no longer tarry
    This morning's tempest I have to cross
    I must be guided without a stumble
    Into the arms I love the most

  • #2
    it wasn't meant to be we should of done norwich

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