Its meant to be.
My eyes have seen your face a hundred times. My eyes have seen your body a thousand times. My eyes have seen your soul a million.
My eyes watch you on the pitch, I see no one else but you. I smell no one else but you; I want no one else but you.
Why do you make me so weak? I dare speak. I dare speak. I’m but meek in your sea of admirers and an orange card in the midst of red and yellow.
Take your time young man, slow down, for your timeless to me and to all us Kopite women who see you shine.
Only haste; your hands to my waist. Your lips I taste. Post match adrenaline. Let’s not let this go to waste.
Let me be the number one to your nine and round up this emotion. Oh sweet, sweet Carroll Nine I can be your notion.
A loyal fan I’ll always be and will remain, my love for you do not refrain. On my feelings don’t let it rain; open your heart once again.
I put my lips to the TV as the reds come marching out and I feel your presence meet my breath - but my screen feels like death compared to your skin. Oh let me in.
Number nine all you do is shine, shine, shine. You are Liverpool’s most fine. The header on you is most divine; to look so good MUST be a crime.
A born and bread scouser, I’m lucky to be part of the ‘pool, But number nine I’m not a fool, When I say your cool, my heart you rule, your no tool, Andy Carroll you make this girl drool.
So your ear incline to me, I want the entire world to see. Me and Carroll are meant to be.
By Mica Sharelle Moore -
YNWA
x
My eyes watch you on the pitch, I see no one else but you. I smell no one else but you; I want no one else but you.
Why do you make me so weak? I dare speak. I dare speak. I’m but meek in your sea of admirers and an orange card in the midst of red and yellow.
Take your time young man, slow down, for your timeless to me and to all us Kopite women who see you shine.
Only haste; your hands to my waist. Your lips I taste. Post match adrenaline. Let’s not let this go to waste.
Let me be the number one to your nine and round up this emotion. Oh sweet, sweet Carroll Nine I can be your notion.
A loyal fan I’ll always be and will remain, my love for you do not refrain. On my feelings don’t let it rain; open your heart once again.
I put my lips to the TV as the reds come marching out and I feel your presence meet my breath - but my screen feels like death compared to your skin. Oh let me in.
Number nine all you do is shine, shine, shine. You are Liverpool’s most fine. The header on you is most divine; to look so good MUST be a crime.
A born and bread scouser, I’m lucky to be part of the ‘pool, But number nine I’m not a fool, When I say your cool, my heart you rule, your no tool, Andy Carroll you make this girl drool.
So your ear incline to me, I want the entire world to see. Me and Carroll are meant to be.
By Mica Sharelle Moore -
YNWA
x