I can see your silhouette from where I sit
Not all of your garden lights are properly lit
Now, I was the one suppose to go on the attack
You are in the house with our old centreback
He learned the secret of a good sales pitch
My sources tell me that he’s filthy rich
You mistook me for the painter at the private view
I was merely standing in the champagne queue
But if you think I look good in a beret
Then I’d be more than happy
To be there and to get the chance to say
That art just imitates football
Now, from my view here behind the tree
It’s easy to see why it’s him and not me
A towering figure projected on the shade
Our centreback he was never afraid
Now, I was never much of a number nine
And I thought I was too bright for the assembly line
You mistook me for the painter at the private view
I was merely standing in the alcohol queue
But if you think I look good in a beret
Then I’d be more than happy
To be there and to get the chance to say
That life just imitates football

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