THAT TIME AGAIN
Have we finally learnt our lesson, do we finally know the score
Has reality come home to roost and knocked on every door
In a land where blind conviction never ceases to amaze
When you weigh up all those barren years, dashed hopes and early graves
Have we woken up with open eyes and seized the reins of truth
Are we reckoning on nothing; it’s the basement not the roof
Or yet once again has reason from our senses taken leave
Has it forced us to declare in hope; in England we believe
From the cobbled streets of Holmfirth, to the Kop and to the Den
Can we see our Lions prowling, can we count upon these men
Will they interrupt the Samba and evoke the ghost of Moore
Will they burn out, will they whimper, will we hear three Lions Roar
From the Peckhams to the Beckhams, from The Bridge up to The Lane
From The Valley to The Cottage, is it four more years of pain
Are the car flags and the banners just reminders to forget
Or will Gerrard’s Cross find Rooney and will Rooney find the net
It’s that time again for all of us, that time when we unite
Let the Scots cry Argentina, let the hand of God be right
We won’t shy from blinkered passion, so it’s time we gave what for
From the Stretford End to Rovers, from the Hawthorns to Turf Moor
We will rally, we will gather, we will throw all colours in
For our Team and for our Country, for our Queen and for our kin
And when all is done and dusted and they’ve dragged us through the dirt
We’ll still celebrate the honour of Three Lions and The Shirt.
©Henry Birtles