Where are the knights of Sir Alfred?
Where is our red army’s glow?
It was lost in the blink of an eyelid
Oh where did our cup chances go?
What happened to football’s creators?
Inventors of this beautiful game
Their tears are now falling from heaven…
On Wembley like small drops of rain
No more are we champions of Blighty
No Bobbys… No Martins…No Geoffs
We’ve come from the Rapture of Ramsey
To the McClaren slow dance of death
Our roar has lost it’s perfection
Oh where did the three lions go?
Are we now lambs looking for traction?
On a hillside covered in snow
Oh where is the hope and the glory?
Where is our anthem of pride?
Is it now a forgettable jingle?
Since that day when our cup chances died.