I remember that day so far back in time
When we won the world cup, it seemed so sublime
My Uncles and Dad all crammed round a screen
I remember it now, I can picture the scene
They had all gathered round and were drinking warm beer
They were full of good heart, they were brimming with cheer
They had served in the war not that long ago
And the German’s were back, they still were their foe.
They were crammed round the screen just ten inches square.
The cheers from the crowd hung high in the air.
They puffed on their pipes, they sucked on cigars
They were watching new hero’s, England’s young stars.
I knew all their names, but I loved Nobby Styles
A fierce little player, with toothy odd smiles.
And then there was Banks protecting our goal,
And we watched on as Mum built the fire up with coal.
We were caught in the power, swept up in the glory
Whilst our footballers wrote their own special story
There were hugs, there were tears, Joyce danced on the table
And Uncle Fred kissed poor old Great Aunty Mabel.
It’s locked in my mind that most special of days,
And some of it’s lost in times misty haze.
Moore brought it home with that special of teams
Since then we’ve just hoped and followed the dream.