There were sore heads on some pillows
Sandpaper on some tongues
As we wowed the pundits, scoring goals
To win the game five one
We’ve a swagger in our cities
A smile on every face
Unless your name is Slaven Bilic
You’re happily singing in the rain.
We’ve a troubled downcast nation
As everybody knows
But last night our expectations rose
When we strolled toward “The Show”.
The boys went out and did us proud
We’re primed to board the plane
So sing their praises, sing them loud
We’re there with two spare games.
Fifteen blinding sparks of light
Have lit the nations fuse
In North West London on a balmy night
So much respect is due.
Forget this bleak recession
Morale at all time low
Instead lets laud Capello
With his boys for taking us to ”The Show”.
The winter can’t pass fast enough
Our star is on the rise
Come summertime we’ll strut our stuff,
Midst other top World sides.
Fans will chase match tickets
Book the time off work
They’ll wanna be in the thick of it
Whilst back home our nation goes berserk.
World Cup fevers on the rise
We’re scoring bags of goals
Our boys restored a nations wounded pride
By taking us to “The Show”.