Kasabian - Empire
wrote on January 23, 2012
- There's a breathless hush in the Close to-night,
- Ten to make and the match to win
- A bumping pitch and a blinding light,
- An hour to play, and the last man in.
- And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat
- Or the selfish hope of a season's fame,
- But his captain's hand on his shoulder smote
- "Play up! Play up! And play the game!"
- The sand of the desert is sodden red -
- Red with the wreck of the square that broke.
- The gatling's jammed and the colonel dead,
- And the regiment blind with dust and smoke.
- The river of death has brimmed its banks,
- And England's far, and Honour a name,
- But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks -
- "Play up! Play up! And play the game!"
- This is the word that year by year,
- While in her place the school is set,
- Every one of her sons must hear,
- And none that hears it dare forget.
- This they all with a joyful mind
- Bear through life like a torch in flame,
- And falling fling to the host behind -
- "Play up! Play up! And play the game!"
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simone di somma
