The Crack of the Willow

Lyrics

On Sunday, the question rose again And the season began with a smile A small village green and a handful of men Battle for their pride A flash of the whitening that goes on the pad A whiff of the linseed oil shows And the umpire cheeks that the bat is quite straight Before they bowl Down, down like madman His arms reaches over his head He bowls, the crack of the willow and leather You'll wish you were dead The crowd that you once thought were all fast asleep Have now woken up and are standing on their feet The game is not won by your six runs for sure So they call for more, call for more, call for more The sun is in their eyes, the advantage is yours You sense there's a victory here When lunchtime is called not a moment too soon For a flask of beer The old boys will say you're a chip off the block And you'll be a jolly little fellow But you know after lunch that the bowler Is not going to let you go Down, down like a madman His arms reaches over his head He bowls, the crack of the willow and the leather You'll wish you were dead This time your eyes meet, his judgement was right You slice at it wildly, it was nowhere in sight You're so cleanly bowled and that it's their turn for sure To be called for more, called for more, called for more Come Sunday evening, the result is a draw The English style conquers again Strategy dressed up in a white flannel clothes For a band of men When you go to the pub, you're all heroes today Drink with the sun going down A challenge once more will be set, that's for sure On another ground Down, down like a madman The drink will go straight to your head "Ouch" the crack of the hangover Tomorrow you'll wish you were dead You find your way and you fall asleep The crowd that you dream of are standing on their feet The six runs you gave were a hundred for sure And they call for more, call for more, call for more