Henley
Not a sound from the towpath
All the crowds have gone home now
We are rowing alone
Temple Island
The withered leaves collect at my feet
And the wind begins to moan
Henley,
all alone in the stroke seat
I can dream of my old crew
Life was beautiful then
I remember the time I knew what victory was
Let the champagne flow again
Every late catch seems to beat
A fatalistic warning
Someone mutters and the cox box sputters
Soon we will be racing
Remenham
We must think of the final
We must wait for the roar and
We must never give in
When the day comes
Tonight will be a memory too
And a new race will begin
Burnt out ends of Henley days
By Stewards the crews are boating
The opposition dies
Another heat is over
Another race is starting
Thames Cup
Mustn't row like a Muppet
All alone with the memory
Of the weights that I've done
If we make it
You'll understand what happiness is
Look, a new race has begun...
