World Cup Final ’94 –
What a disappointing bore
As if the Bolshoi forgot how to dance –
Brazil never took a chance
Before the shoot-out rolled I went out to feed the ducks
Who’d have thought? At the park that day
22 ducks engaged in play
It was a game, so beautiful I reeled
They soccer-samba’d up and down the field
I called my dad who was howling in shame:
“That was a technocratic game!”
He cursed Brazil’s defensive strategy
And reminisced of 1970
I said, “Daddy don’t go cold, come on out and see the ducks”
You should have seen it – such flair for attack
These little feathered players going quack-quack-quack
It was a game, so beautiful we reeled
They soccer-samba’d up and down the field
No need to get forlorn
Though Maradona’s gone
‘Cause all this while
With grace and guile
Ducks play like a song
Final whistle – they go back to the pond
Who cares about the score? Who cares about who won?
It was a vision, religion, the real passion play
We asked for their prints but all they did was waddle away...
