Panic

Finding the AFL meat market all a bit depressing/confusing/addictive?

With club movers and shakers in a panic, holding our future happiness in their hands, I thought I’d find some inspiration from the equally depressing/confusing/addictive Smiths to get me through… to the draft.

After all, as Moz says, meat is murder.

Panic on the streets of Hawthorn
Panic on the streets of Carlton
I wonder to myself

Could footy ever be sane again?
The deeds and feats that are stripped down
I wonder to myself

Hopes may rise on the next year
But Clokey-Pie, you’re not safe here
So you frown
At letting go Nathan Brown

But there’s panic on the streets of Richmond
Brisbane, Gold Coast, Collingwood
I wonder to myself

Cast off by Clarko
Damn the blessed heresay
Because the trades that they constantly make
It says something to fans about the knife
Damn the blessed heresay
Because the trades that they constantly make

The father-son you can’t lock down
The future draft picks you shop ’round

Damn the heresay, damn the heresay, damn the heresay
Damn the heresay, damn the heresay, damn the heresay

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