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.