Happy St George Day everone...

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'



Happy St George's Day to all.

You've got to hold and give, but do it at the right time
You can be slow or fast, but you must get to the line
They'll always hit you and hurt you, defend and attack
There's only one way to beat them, get round the back
Catch me if you can, cause I'm the England man
And what you're looking at is the master plan
We ain't no hooligans, this ain't a football song
Three lions on my chest, I know we can't go wrong

I give you a toast, ladies and gentlemen
I give you a toast, ladies and gentlemen
May this fair land we love so well
In dignity and freedom dwell
Though worlds may change and go awry
While there is still one voice to cry

There'll always be an England
While there's a country lane
Wherever there's a cottage small
Beside a field of grain

There'll always be an England
While there's a busy street
Wherever there's a turning wheel
A million marching feet

Red, white and blue
What does it mean to you?
Surely you're proud, shout it aloud
Britons, awake

The empire too, we can depend on you
Freedom remains
These are the chains
Nothing can break

There'll always be an England
And England shall be free
If England means as much to you
As England means to me

Red, white and blue
What does it mean to you?
Surely you're proud, shout it aloud
Britons, awake

The empire too, we can depend on you
Freedom remains
These are the chains
Nothing can break

There'll always be an England
And England shall be free
If England means as much to you
As England means to me

I was born in a Dublin street,
where the Royal drums did beat,
the loving English feet, they walked all over us,
and every single night,
when me da' would come home tight,
he'd invite the neighbours out with this chorus:

Come out ye' black and tans!
Come out and fight me like a man!
Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders!
Tell her how the IRA,
made you run like hell away,
from the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra!

Come let us hear you tell,
How you slandered Great Parnell,
When you thought him well and truly persecuted!
Where are those sneers and jeers,
That you loudly let us hear,
When our leaders of '16 were executed!

Come out ye' black and tans
Come out and fight me like a man!
Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders!
Tell her how the IRA,
made you run like hell away,
from the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra!

Come tell us how you slew,
Them old Arabs two by two,
Like the Zulu they had spears and bow and arrows!
How bravely you faced one,
With your sixteen-pounder gun!
And you frightened them damn natives to the marrow!

Come out ye' black and tans
Come out and fight me like a man!
Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders!
Tell her how the IRA,
made you run like hell away,
from the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra!

The time is coming fast,
And I think them days are here,
When each seánín, he'll run before us
And if there'll be a need,
Then our kids will say "Godspeed!"
With a verse or two of singing this fine chorus:

Come out ye' black and tans
Come out and fight me like a man!
Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders!
Tell her how the IRA,
made you run like hell away,
from the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra!

Yeah! How low can you go Die Linke?

Shame your old tailend charlie WD isn't about... He'd be very disappointed in you, A real Patriot.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4bHP_IDJO0A



Happy St George's day.

Nice one Crisp, at least your Heineken was probably brewed under licence in England and your curry could be English too, and quite a few Spanish clubs were influenced by the English!!

"Tell her how the IRA,
made you run like hell away,
from the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra!"

A bit of an exaggeration
Wiki: in 1922, ex-RIC and Black and Tan soldiers were forced to retreat from the town after being given a few days warning to leave by the local IRA
Killeshandra: population 248
And there was a truce in the second half of 1921.

Not exactly Austerlitz (158,000 soldiers) or Waterloo (about 180,000 soldiers)