The Owl is not what he seems.

Flickering on the edges
Of that reality
Only existing in the dull light
Of television
He sat, stage left
Ocassionally panning to centre.

Now his time
In the leading role
Perhaps
The owl is not what he seems.
For a lifetime -
Watching, perhaps
He has gleaned what afflicts
This sorry state.

Onward, Christian Soldiers

Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war,
With the badge of lions, going on before.
Parker, the royal Captain, leads against the foe;
Forward into battle see His lions go!

At the sign of triumph France and Spain both flee;
On then, England's soldiers, on to victory!
Ukraine's foundations quiver at the shout of praise;
Lads lift up your voices, loud the anthem raise.

Like a mighty army moves the England fans;
Brothers, we are treading where our fathers trod.
We are not divided, all one body we,
One in hope and boozing, one in laddity.

What The Sun established that I hold for true.
What The Sun believèd, that I believe too.
Long as bladder endureth, men the faith will hold,
Cafés, plazas and boozers, in destruction rolled.

Golden generations perish, players rise and wane,
But the pressure constant will remain.
Apathy or boredom can never gainst England prevail;
We have the FA's own promise, and that cannot fail.

Onward then, ye geezers, join our bulging throng,
Shout with ours your voices in the triumph song.
"There were ten German bombers in the air"
This through countless ages men and children sing.