The All Blacks, man, are they for real?
They’re faster than the speed of light
Don’t blink, you’ll miss them, they’re surreal
I’m awake, not dreaming, right?
They just left the French for dead
They’re faster than the speed of sound
Eyes in the back of every head
Feet that fly above the ground
What power, what fitness, what on earth
Possesses men to be that fine
What strange goddess gave them birth
What discipline keeps them in line
I sit here gobsmacked, oh my days
I understand now, here’s the crack;
The All Blacks move in mysterious ways
Dark Gods of rugby blessed, in black