Reigning champions, its about regaining pride
As they march to Twickenham, no place to hide!
The raining poured in the Stade de France,
Not quite #6Nations jig or merry dance.
The ball became a bar of soap
Did the Championship slip to a distant hope?
Principality draw, a one point loss;
It was close a bit like one coin's toss,
The knife edge, the margin between the loss or win,
The line, the difference it is so thin.
So near, so far will fans now beg
Heads held high or tails 'tween legs?
Is the bit now firmly between their teeth
Surely this year no #6Nations wreath!
So Ireland are they on the rack
What welcome from the Cabbage patch?
Will Joe Schmidt repair their wounds?
Turn into Irish wolfhounds soon?
As they search for their first victory
But England await, let's wait and see.
The English fresh from travels abroad,
Italy and Scotland put to the sword;
New general Jones showing his authority
Goading, gaining notoriety.
The tinker, the tailor, changing the mix
Jonathan Joseph adding his hat tricks.
Sniping half backs, bossing pack
Prepared for Irish planned attacks.
Sextant Sexton with his high ball
Elementary for Watson, please stand tall.
A house party for Nowell and Brown,
Come on England lets go to town!
Momentum building it's time to strike
Fear into Irish and all alike.
Too early to talk of things grand slam
Focus on the game at hand!
It's time a chance balance redress,
Let's rebuild Twickenham's strong fortress,
Continue from where we left in Rome
Come on England lets #carrythemhome!
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