BUT FOR THE BATS

The early morning chill as you zip your jacket tight
Waiting for the bus to come and pick you up on time
The bag housing cans and scran
The scarf, the hope, the dreams
But more than this the friends, the crack, the family, the brood
Sitting in social bubbles on bobbled fabric seats
Waiting for the hiss of cans to usher in the feast
The start of the away day
The beginning of the story
And everything that lies ahead, the pain, the hope, the glory
The sandwiches come out to play, a murmur of tradition
Cheese and onion? Tuna mayo? Staples of nutrition
There's one thing you can always back
And that's that one lad to spoil the air
With egg between his sliced white bread to stink out all the lads
A stop off before the final push towards your landing station
Buses full of thirsty fans in need of some hydration
A pint, a song, arms draped over shoulders
A pub packed full of red and white
Reminds us all that we are here amongst strangers who are friends
The arch beckons once again to this enviable tribe
But the walkways will be empty this time as fans at home imbibe
Regardless of what happens here
Regardless of the score
Our family will roar us on, and will until we die.