The Beautiful Game

Kick the ball with me
 One more time
 Kick the ball Daddy
 Kick the ball with me
 One more time
 Kick the ball Daddy
 Martin was born in England
 With two left feet
 The son of Irish immigrants
 He'd get up early
 To watch the weekend games
 With bruised shins he'd come home late
 And his Dad would say
 Martin do your work
 And put that bloody football away
 But he'd sneak out to the stadium
 And he'd stare up at the lights
 And hear them chanting his name
 In the beautiful game
 In the beautiful game
 He grew up fast
 And he bought a one way ticket
 Across the Atlantic to Michigan
 For the promise of football
 And an education
 Away from nails and hammering
 But he found snow instead of grass
 And weight lifting
 And the wrong football on TV
 So he took his degree
 And he moved down to Texas
 To coach a high school soccer team
 In the beautiful game
 In the beautiful game
 And that's where I met him
 He was well into balding
 We were on the same men's league team
 And he'd give a half time speech
 Every Sunday
 To us half listening
 It sounded like
 Give it all you got
 Give it everything
 Cause this is everything to me
 No other team got a half time speech
 And I believed him
 And I can still here him say
 The beautiful game
 The beautiful game
 His dad would say
 Find something else to do
 Maybe football is not the thing for you
 But he kept coming back to that 4-4-2
 Like David Beckham
 And Steven Gerrard
 And Rio Ferdinand
 And Shaun Wright Phillips
 And Frank Lampard
 And Brad Tisdel
 And Sir Bobby Charlton
 And the beautiful game
 And the beautiful game
 After the cheers and the handshakes and the beers
 Martin remains
 And he sits with his back to the goal post
 Looking almost
 Like he's always sat that way
 He cracks a smile
 And he lets his hand down
 To feel the grass beneath
 And he lingers
 As he runs his fingers
 Through the dirt and the dreams
 Kick the ball with me
 One more time
 Kick the ball Daddy
 Kick the ball with me
 One more time
 Kick the ball Daddy