An emerald playground like a lawn,
Hand to hand the ball is thrown along
To a man with a helmet on.
An All Black aristocracy
Back through binoculars you see
The pitted, unbending brawn.
Cardiff debentures are all sold out.
Contact the tout and blow a fortune,
Are you playing....?

Hangover overtaking me
Damn Conductors noise awakens me
To a marching band's baton.
An injury, a costly blow,
The match is all but lost for now
To a muted crowd response.
Cardiff debentures are all sold out.
Contact the tout and blow a fortune,
Are you playing... Barry John?

---------------------------------------------

Line out throw towers,
The scrum was strike the head,
Quicksilver run.
Carry across the pitch
Side-step, the dummy
Calls the tune.
The hits come hard
In added time.

The flag was raised
The crowd arose
It's almost time
The chants of mindless boasting.
Why in sport it's do or die.
A cry of pain,
The cheers die,
A magic sponge,
A broken leg
He's off...goodbye.

Ball's up, mmm, mmm, mmm
Aboard a Mexican wave.
Tackling hard you cheer
The young and skilful team who play.
You heard the roar....
The Referee...
Awards the Try..........

--------------------------------------------
Try.................(Child sings 'Land of My Fathers')

A Max Boyce song and the message is today.
The team has lost and the children stay away.