Cross of blood on white,
St. George's holy shield,
dragon slayer, sacred knight,
now our crusaders must not yield
in their quest for glory sealed;
courage no less than in times of yore,
heat as searing as dragon's breath,
lance and spear traded for tackle and ball,
speed and skill hard to believe,
three lions roar; the glorious deed!
history's burden bears down
in the crucible, agin the fouls,
no more the loser, nay again the clown,
beloved England's finest hour,
if only the World Cup could be ours!
