Read in your best Shakespearian voice:
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close our ranks and play for Southend’s pride.
Between seasons there's nothing so becomes a team
As respect for our new and illustrious opponents:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise our respect with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the body an aspect of steel;
Let pry through the defences of our enemy
Like the attacking force we are; let our passion o'erwhelm
As fearfully as befits the League 1 Champions.
O'erpower and surprise their unwitting plan,
Buoy'd with the clever and dextrous Eastwood.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest Southend.
Whose skills are honed from underdog-spirit!
Spirit that, like our promotion teams of the past,
Have at the Hall from the first ‘til the ninetieth fought
And battled the enemy into submission:
Dishonour not your fans; now attest
That those whom preceded you can respect you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to play football. And you, good Shrimpers,
Whose limbs were made for Southend, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Tilly, Southend, and Roots Hall!
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close our ranks and play for Southend’s pride.
Between seasons there's nothing so becomes a team
As respect for our new and illustrious opponents:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise our respect with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the body an aspect of steel;
Let pry through the defences of our enemy
Like the attacking force we are; let our passion o'erwhelm
As fearfully as befits the League 1 Champions.
O'erpower and surprise their unwitting plan,
Buoy'd with the clever and dextrous Eastwood.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest Southend.
Whose skills are honed from underdog-spirit!
Spirit that, like our promotion teams of the past,
Have at the Hall from the first ‘til the ninetieth fought
And battled the enemy into submission:
Dishonour not your fans; now attest
That those whom preceded you can respect you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to play football. And you, good Shrimpers,
Whose limbs were made for Southend, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Tilly, Southend, and Roots Hall!
