God help our odious team,
Long such a woeful team,
God help our team.
Play’s so laborious,
Recruit Pistorius,
Stop them from boring us,
God help our team.

♫ ♫ ♫

And did those feet in recent times
Mince across Twickers’ molehills green,
And was that roly-poly pack of sods
From corporate boxes really seen?

And did that weak threequarter line
Shit bricks when faced with Aussie skills,
And was opprobrium dished out here
Among the Harrys, Kates and Wills?

Bring them a plate of humble pie,
Bring them a bowl of just desserts,
Let them fill hampers and ask why
At Car Park picnics till it hurts.

I will not hide my sheer delight,
Nor curb my glee at Sais unmanned
Till Wales holds Webb Ellis aloft
In England’s mean, unpleasant land.

♫ ♫ ♫

He looked over Twick’nham and what did he see,
Coming for to carry him home?
A blazered lynch mob coming after he,
Coming for to put him in loam.

‘Swing high, Stuart Lancaster’,
Is coming from the Mail and Sun,
Scapegoat Stuart Lancaster
Like the RFU’s always done.

♫ ♫ ♫