Gabriel Batistuta Song

In a small town by the river, he grew up strong and wild

With a dream of chasing glory, just a simple country child

He played on streets in sunshine, ball was life, it was his way

Never thought he'd conquer nations, make defenders beg and pray

From Newell's up to Boca, oh the goals he carved in stone

Florence loved him as a hero, gave him statues, called him home

The crowds would sing his name aloud, Batigol they would repeat

And when he struck that perfect shot, it knocked you off your seat

Batistuta, Batigol, the Florentine dream

Hat-tricks in two World Cups, the only one supreme

From Argentina's pastures to Rome's golden gate