Six-a-side football on a dusty, odd-shaped pitch
We're in the heart of the Amazon, and I don't have the stitch
I'm zipping around like a cat on cocaine
Defenders dive at my ankles, sometimes in vain
They're crafty, these fellows, they don't mind a bent rule
Some of them prefer to stand, perhaps running is uncool
In my head I'm Messi but I'm not sure it shows
I look like I've just been swimming at the game's close