When the batsmen
enter the ground,
Its our heart
beats which pound,
They are gonna
start the mission,
But its us who
make the roaring sound
When holding the
bat, the batsman takes his stance,
When the first
ball, the baller plans,
In our hearts, its
us balling, its us batting,
Its our heart,
which is pounding.
They strategise,
its they who start,
The game's on the
field, but the action's in our heart.
When the ball
leaps out of the ballers hand,
The heart leaps
out of our chest, in the stands,
When with the
first shot, the ball goes cracking,
We are the ones
nervous, the ones who are perspiring!
When the ball travels
through the air towards the fielder,
The fielder brings
his hands together, to take the catch,
Its us whose mouth
keeps opening far and wider,
The players play, they do their part,
The game's on the
field, but the action's in our heart.
From the toss,
when the captain has to chose heas or tails.
To the end, the
win, the defeat,
We are the ones
biting our nails,
We are the ones,
on our feet.
And when OUR team
wins,
We are the ones
doing the celebration,
After all, its not
the skills or fate which decide the result,
Its our
standing/sitting/staying, our superstitions!
They play, they
stay, they finish, but we win,
The game's on the
field, but the actions in our heart,
