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I鈥檓 a white-haired old gentleman glued to the settee;

Last time we won a trophy I was ten years old

And my mam celebrated with a cup of milky tea,

But now the handle鈥檚 broken and the liquid鈥檚 cold.

I measure out my sporting life in nights like these

Watching through my fingers like I used to do

When the werewolf鈥檚 cry was carried on the midnight breeze

And the Daleks took a free kick that flummoxed Dr Who.

Time shrinks now to a moment just hanging in the air

A boy steps up to place our nervous hearts down on the spot

And we all hold our breath in this bright dream that we all share

That somehow this might not be The Land That Time Forgot.

A whistle breaks the air up; the endless run up starts

And ends with a fine save that will go down as a miss;

But let鈥檚 remember we are greater than the sum of all our parts

We are human, we are fragile, and let鈥檚 all think of this:

That those who carry dreams for us should be carried high

Through the cheering streets 鈥榗os they remind us we can be

Just as brave as Icarus when he flapped his wings to fly

And when we fall we catch each other long before we hit the sea.

Credit: 漏 Ian McMillan听 听

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