Wynd ... with or without tan

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No-one remembers the little bloke with the big wrist-band?

JIM'S GOT A TAN
(to the Rainmakers’ “I talk with my hands”)

I do so much training, so much exercise.
I might have my pizza but don't eat no pies.
I've taken some time off from the task at hand.
Yeah I've been sunbakin' and I've got a tan.

It's true I'm a rover, the best one around.
The bottom of packs is where I can be found.
I use both my feet and I use both my hands.
But see my new weapon, now I've got a tan.

I'm flattened so often, I will be again.
My flat-top prevents me from feeling the pain.
But it's not the feature that makes me a man.
What makes me different is I've got a tan.

Outside the matches, I lay pretty low.
But soon as the ball's bounced I know where to go.
All I could ask for I get from my fans.
I hope they don't miss me, now I've got a tan.

Swift as a zephyr I cover the lands.
Into the packs or where tall timber stands.
I can do many things no other can.
And now maybe more because I've got a tan.

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Hallowed be thy Roy
 

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