I remember in September when the final stumps were drawn
And the shouts of crowds now silent and the boys to tea was gone
Let us O Lord above us remember simple things
When all our dead who love us, oh, the captains and the Kings
When all our dead who love us, oh, the captains and the Kings
We have many goods for export Christian ethics and old port
But our greatest boast is that the Anglo-Saxon is a sport
On the playing fields of Eaton we still do thrilling things
Do no think we'll ever weaken of the captains and the kings
Do no think we'll ever weaken of the captains and the kings
Far away in dear old Cyprus or in Kenya's dusty land
Where all bear the white man's burden in many a strange land
As we looked across our shoulder in West Belfast the school bell rings
And we sigh for dear auld England, and the captains and the kings
And we sigh for dear auld England, and the captains and the kings
I wandered in a nightmare all around great Windsor Park
And what do you think I found there as I stumbled in the dark?
'Twas an apple half bitten and sweetest of all things
Five baby teeth had written of the captains and the kings
Five baby teeth had written of the captains and the kings
By the moon that shines above us in the misty mornin' night
Let us cease to run ourselves down but praise God that we are white
And better still we're English, tea and toast and muffin rings
Our ladies with stern faces, and the captains and the kings
Our ladies with stern faces, and the captains and the kings