John Goodmanson - Plan A lyrics

[Verse 1: Gareth & Aleks Just like when we were seventeen We said we'd move to Malta, claim nationality And now that we are twenty-three Days tethered to the running track Evenings chained to the dish rack I'm called up to the Maltese national team My vision is impeccable, my first touch is obscene A World Cup qualifier finds me fifty, forty, thirty yards From goal, a late sub on in an off-the-striker role [Verse 2: Gareth & Aleks] Was it wind? Did it take a bad deflection? A decade spent nursing a fear that you might never make it? The crowd draws breath at once, it swerves to the top corner The Sunday tabloid press declares me the new king of Malta [Chorus] With my name on shirts, your face on the cash That every week just piles inside our bank account We'd rule the roost and we could start a family I think we'd make about a hundred million bucks [Verse 3: Gareth & Aleks] I head down to the mint and tell them "Pound every coin deep into the ground Burn every note in circulation There's a new face on the currency of our nation" I hand them a photograph of you The most beautiful thing they'd ever seen The press starts a rolling, your image on Euros The workforce retires to the bathroom [Chorus]