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It is easy to take for granted
The first week of the World Cup
England always expect to go through.
Criticise the players but still they’re enchanted
Find their rhythm before they cook up
Something to make global audiences coo.
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And I am guilty of this belief
That 1950 won’t be repeated
And I look to 2nd rounds and quarters.
Like most I could do without the grief
And I only hope we remain undefeated
As strong as our vocal supporters.
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It’s a cliche I know but it’s true:
Take each game one at a time
And beat whoever you face next.
But I can’t help but think of July too
When England should reach their prime
Versus Brazilians, Dutch or Czechs.
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Another World Cup, another dream
And like all other times I believe
In days of perpetual optimism.
And even when it may well seem
That I’m silly or perhaps naive
A goal may appear to destroy any schism.