n the days to call, which we have left behind, Our boyhood’s glorious game, And our youthful vigour has declined With its mirth and its lonesome end; You will think of the time, the happy time, Its memories fond recall When in the bloom of your youthful prime We’ve kept upon the ball Kick it off, throw it in, have a little scrimmage, Keep it low, a splendid rush, bravo, win or die; On the ball, City, never mind the danger, Steady on, now’s your chance, Hurrah! We’ve scored a goal.
n the days to call, which we have left behind,
Our boyhood’s glorious game,
And our youthful vigour has declined
With its mirth and its lonesome end;
You will think of the time, the happy time,
Its memories fond recall
When in the bloom of your youthful prime
We’ve kept upon the ball
Kick it off, throw it in, have a little scrimmage,
Keep it low, a splendid rush, bravo, win or die;
On the ball, City, never mind the danger,
Steady on, now’s your chance,
Hurrah! We’ve scored a goal.
Our boyhood’s glorious game,
And our youthful vigour has declined
With its mirth and its lonesome end;
You will think of the time, the happy time,
Its memories fond recall
When in the bloom of your youthful prime
We’ve kept upon the ball
Kick it off, throw it in, have a little scrimmage,
Keep it low, a splendid rush, bravo, win or die;
On the ball, City, never mind the danger,
Steady on, now’s your chance,
Hurrah! We’ve scored a goal.