World Cup Fever Till The End Of The World Poem by Stephen Wylie

Will England win the World Cup
before this planet's time is up?
Will they hoist red, white and blue;
or stay forever green
with envy of those nations,
whose triumphs they demean?
They are not short of the brass neck
to boast of their win in '66,
even though, in their hearts,
they know that it was fixed.
The Russian linesman viewed the Germans with distaste;
he'd spent the Second World War as their involuntary guest.
Thus he was in remarkable haste
to signal a goal that never was,
and lay the German hopes to waste.

The English haven't won it since;
so they keep harking back
to the glory days of '66,
and waving the Union Jack.
No matter how much time goes past
before the Sun blows up,
they'll keep on showing Geoffrey Hurst
winning the World Cup.