Kicking the footy with god
Kicking the footy with god
He hits me right on the chest
With another perfect drop punt
Drop punt
I’m praying that it doesn’t rain tomorrow
God says he’ll see what he can do
Cos it’d be good for the garden yeah
But the big game’s on at two
On at two
And everybody’s saying kick it to me
Everybody’s saying kick it to me
God calls in the angels
To get it down out of the tree
He’s got blindingly white shorts and
Really bright white boots
He floats through the air like Warwick Capper
But he doesn’t need to bleach his roots
Bleach his roots
Curator of the universe
Creator of the MCG
He’s omnipotent and all knowing
But he can’t explain Carlton’s form to me
Form to me
He’s got lots of nicknames
But he still answers to mate
Some people call him Gary
He played for Geelong back in ‘88
Kicking the footy with God
Kicking the footy with God
And now I’m going to leave him cos
Tea won’t be long

 

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