You probably gotta be from Cork to understand half the shit.
Lyrics
Chorus To the tune of Eminem's 'Stan'
Dear Keane, I sent 84 text messages and rang your mobile phone
But I got a court order saying to leave you alone
I sent two letters weeks ago for you to have a lamp
But you probably never got um cos I never gave um stamps
Sometimes I don’t even write the addresses on um at all
But fick it, what’s the craic kid, hows the football
I play soccer too but people tell me that I’m shite at it
If I get signed guess where I’m going, gointa Man Utd.
I heard about your dodgy ankle too I’m sorry
I’d a friend break his leg over a bating from a norrie
I know you probably hear this everday but you’re the sham
I even went and bought a Keano t-shirt for my mam
I got all your merchandise from Keano socks to a bracelet
I like the shit you did to Mick McCarthy too, that shit was daycent
But anyways I hope you get this sham
Ring my phone when you’re home
Slan go pholl, your biggest fan, this is Dan
Chorus
Dear Keane, you still haven’t wrote, what’s the story with that shite
Is this because in my last letter I couldn’t spell or write
Well d-e-a-r-e, ya that’s how you spell ‘dear’
Don’t be a queer, come on boy, invite me out for a beer
I heard all bout the story bout you on the Irish team
I can’t believe they kicked out such a legendary feen
know what I mean, I remember when you were seen
In a t-shirt and jeans just off the plane walking your dog around the green
Look, I bought your book but can’t get passed the first chapter
Cos the words were just too big, and my eyes got really knackered
So abrakadabra, guess what, now I can spell
And I’m gointa give you hell until you give me a bell
I think it’s great the way you play a match
So when I’m watching the game I just sit and scratch my ass
Until I broke my television now I’m sad and all depressed
I even got a tattoo of your nipple on my chest
One time I even kicked a ball to see how far it goes
It ricocheted off a window, came back and broke my nose
See everything you say is cool and I respect you cos you tell it
I punctured a ball and got arrested when I tried to sell it
The guards don’t know you like I know you Keane, no one does
They don’t know my dreams were to be like you or else to drive a bus
You gotta call me boy, I’ll be the maddest fan you’ll ever loose
Sincerely yours Dan, P.S. we should play together too
Chorus
Dear Mr. I’m-a-faggot-I-don’t-like-my-fans
This will be the last package I ever send your ass
It’s been a week already boy, why the hell didn’t you ring me
I even put stamps on my letters trying not to be stingey
So this is my video I’m sending you, I hope you see it
I’m on a bicycle now in traffic stuck behind a Fiat
Hey Keane, I just had some Dutch Gold, dare me to cycle
You know that film called Halloween bout Michael
Myers who could have knifed a guy and knifed you man’s wife but didn’t
Then he stabbed her in the stomach and she shitted
That’s kinda how this is, you could have rescues me from dying
Now it’s too late, I got some Kleenex tissues cos I’m crying
And all I wanted was a bloody letter or a ball
I hope you know I ripped your Evening Echo picture off my wall
You gave me no respect Keane, you didn’t give an ounce
We could have played nods and volleys, could have played one bounce
We could’ve hung around together, could’ve went to town
I could’ve worn your slippers and you could’ve worn my gown
See Roy, shut up bitch or get a slap
Hey Roy, that’s my mam screaming at me from the footpath
Cos I went and ran away, cos I’m not good enough for Keane
So I robbed her video recorded and now she wants to beat me
Well gotta go, I’m going over the bridge alone
Oh shit, I forgot, it’s time for me to go home
Chorus
Dear Dan, I couldn’t write back cos I’d a match
Are you the feen who got stuck on me in Cork who had the gatch
Look I think it’s funny you wanta join Man Utd.
I say if you could kick a ball straight you’d probably be delighted
I’m sorry bout the cou
