David Sullivan finally departs West Ham, presumably to spend more time with his beloved dog and billions, just as Harry Kane prepares to convince us all that *this* World Cup is definitely the one where he doesn’t break English hearts. Brighton are already splashing the cash on the next wonderkid they’ll sell for a fortune, while over in Texas, even God seemingly grew bored of the World Cup warm-ups and called a two-hour lightning break. Back in the rugby heartlands, Exeter and Bath are battling for glory, Saracens' dynasty has crumbled, and Harlequins managed to win a thriller while still missing the bus to Europe—a level of incompetence usually reserved for the England football team’s backroom staff.
West Ham owner Sullivan resigns amid probe
Harry Kane World Cup and Ballon d'Or hype
Exeter and Bath secure Premiership play-offs
Sultry Gothic Western Horrorcore
🎵 (s)Hit of the Day 🎵
Version 1
Version 2
📜 Lyrics 📜
[Intro]
[Slow, dusty guitar intro with rattlesnake percussion]
[Deep baritone spoken]
It's a thirsty business... digging up the bones.
[Verse 1]
The digger leans on shattered brick
Where Stratford's dreams turn cold and sick
Old David's sitting by the phone
The B.B.C. has come to call his loan
The Panorama curtain falls
On porno pages and betting halls
He's stepping down into the night
He won't be back to set it right
[Chorus]
It's the exhume-and-bury, baby
The exit and the run
Where the truth is just a rumour
And the investigation's done
They steal the silver, sell the chair
Then vanish in the desert air
Yeah, the bandits always win
Before the cleanup can begin
[Verse 2]
Down in Texas, the heavens cracked
Lightning struck and the players backed
Two hours waiting on the yellow grass
For the storm to break and the moment pass
While Harry Kane gets gilded wings
The new Messiah, the King of Kings
They polish up the golden ball
And pray he doesn't drop it all
[Bridge]
Mr. Irreplaceable, worth his weight in PR
While the lightning flashes from the jagged scar
[Guitar Solo - Distorted Pedal Steel]
Brighton buy a winner for twenty-one mill
A Nigerian winger to give them the thrill
But the future's a promise that the present can't keep
And the price is the price for the company sheep
[Verse 3]
Over in the rugby lands, the chiefs are on the rise
Mark McCall's long winter sees the fire in his eyes
Exeter delivered and the dynasty is done
Bath are waiting for the semis in the sun
Glasgow threw it all away, an eighteen-point lead gone cold
The Bulls are running in the highveld, buying dreams with gold
Quins got their winner but the table told them no
A last-gasp try for nothing but a ticket to the show
[Chorus]
It's the exhume-and-bury, baby
The exit and the run
Where the truth is just a rumour
And the investigation's done
They steal the silver, sell the chair
Then vanish in the desert air
Yeah, the bandits always win
Before the cleanup can begin
[Outro]
[Whispered]
Sell the bricks.
Count the cash.
There's a storm coming, Harry.
Better run fast.
[Rattlesnake fade out]