Balogun, Balogone

Scenes 54 frames

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All 54 frames

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Lyrics as sung in the video

Well, Balogoon saw red in a knockout rodeo, Against Bosnia-Herzegovina, everybody saw him go. The ref reached in his pocket, the crowd began to moan, And folks said, “Pack your boots up, son, you’re watchin’ from the phone.” But then came FIFA talkin’, with papers on the desk, A little one-game ban got put on house arrest. Probation for a striker, now ain’t that something strange? Like a sheriff took the rulebook out and left it in the rain. Belgium started hollerin’, UEFA raised a brow, The whole darn world was askin’, “How’s he playin’ now?” Then Trump rode in the headlines, sayin’, “Take another look,” And Infantino’s circus had the whole saloon shook. Balogoon, Balogone, You got cleared, then disappeared, now the dream is overblown. Balogoon, Balogone, Four to one and Belgium’s gone and sent the Yankees home. They bent the ban, they waved the flag, They sang like they’d already won, But after all that big ol’ fuss, Balogoon, Balogone. So here came Belgium smilin’, not a fiddle out of tune, Rudi Garcia calm beneath that Seattle moon. He said, “It didn’t move us,” but brother, don’t you know, They played like every headline poured hot pepper in their soul. Charles De Ketelaere came ridin’ through the gate, Two goals and an assist, served cold upon a plate. Romelu Lukaku put the last nail in the pine, While Uncle Sam was searchin’ for a refund on the line. Matt Freese got frozen, Pulisic limped away, Malik Tillman hit a free kick, gave ’em hope for half a day. Pochettino on the sideline had that thousand-yard stare, Like, “How’d we win the courtroom and still lose it out there?” Balogoon, Balogone, You got cleared, then disappeared, now the dream is overblown. Balogoon, Balogone, Four to one and Belgium’s gone and sent the Yankees home. They bent the ban, they waved the flag, They sang like they’d already won, But after all that big ol’ fuss, Balogoon, Balogone. Oh, the Belgian federation came knockin’ at the door, Said, “We ain’t seen a pardon like this on a soccer field before.” The U.S. said, “Don’t worry, boys, our striker’s back tonight,” Then Belgium said, “That’s lovely,” and turned out every light. Now listen here, children, there’s a moral to the tune: If you need a presidential favor just to play in the afternoon, You better score a hat trick, better make that ban look wrong, ’Cause if you lose by three, son, they’ll put it in a song. Balogoon, Balogone, You got cleared, then disappeared, now the dream is overblown. Balogoon, Balogone, Four to one and Belgium’s gone and sent the Yankees home. They bent the ban, they waved the flag, They sang like they’d already won, But after all that big ol’ fuss, Balogoon, Balogone.

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