Players and spectators

It's only a game

we sit upon stools in our favourit bars,
and immortalize the rugby stars
their past defeats and their wins
broken noses, and cracked shins...

we watch the game with teeth gnashed
while they play the sport, we get smashed
they're carried off the field one by one,
until the final victory's won

fifteen men out on the green
one aim in sight and that is to win
they work like a well oiled machine
this group of men, make a rugby team

broken noses, ripped off ears
all to say we beat our peers
I sit here with a drink in hand,
and think the violence is just grand

and in this pub upon a stool,
I declare my mate to be a fool
he thinks the other team to win
but I know better more fool him

Our boys will be victorious yet
and on this faith my money bet
the roar of the crowd when we score a try
lasts in our memories for weeks gone by

where once strangers sat in a room
we're all mates in the face of doom
our team rallies once more
a single cry becomes a roar

Our men bloodied , bruised, and hurt
pick themselves out of the dirt
they turn again the tide of fate
and bring about before to late

I turn to my friend a grin is found
I do believe it is you'r round
I laugh never bet against my boys
the pain and glory are their joys

they take the gruelling punishment
while in the bar our time is spent
we raise glass and honour the rugby teams
and the world agrees or so it seems

another Saturday we'll all meet again
the teams on the green and me with friends