First February morning
A new era dawning
The great Chalk hath returned
Time Wisbech get burned!

Long Road was the setting
Of the Div One clash
Noth teams were sweating
While dressed in their stash

Wisbech bottom of the league
Just three points to their name
Would South show fatigue
Or cast them up in flame

The game began with quite a ferocity
The team had hit terminal velocity
To Haz, James, Joel and Jim
Wisbech’s chances looked dim

At last South took their chance!
I saw Scott belly dance
Sam had struck a killer blow
That’s why they call him ‘Tornado’

The game carried on with little of note
A few players tried to showboat
And, ‘OH NO!’ the ball is lost
And, ‘OH NO!’ at great cost

A miserable strike topped up in the air
The team consumed, full of despair
A goal for wisbech!
South doth preach
‘Twas not a goal,’ they cried
But the team had nowhere to hide

Time running out
Who can end the drought
Points on the line
Only a man so fine

Highfield, composed and dashing
The flick was so smashing
Goal machine they say
I think he’s okay

South march on
Wapping in sight
A show we’ll don
Again we will fight