*

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

*

by Gail