Pitch-side passion under Welsh grey skies,
Better than a movie in the public’s eyes.
Forget the red carpet, we’re on the green grass,
Ryan’s got the club and he’s showing some class,
Blake’s in the stands looking cinematic gold,
While the score on the board is a story untold.
He’s Deadpool in denim, she’s Gossip Girl chic,
Stopping all the play with a kiss on the cheek,
They ain't looking for a trophy or a shiny gold cup,
Just a moment for the cameras while the score’s going up.
Goal, goal, love on the field,
That Hollywood magic is finally revealed,
From the big screen lights to the Wrexham rain,
They’re winning the heart and they’re winning the game.
While the fans all get a look,
It’s a rom-com script in a football book.
Someone tell the referee to check the VAR,
Because that kind of chemistry is way above par.
Whistle blows, curtains close.
