Hallelujah (the season is here)

“Hallelujah”

I’ve heard there was a secret shot
That Hildreth played, and it pleased the Lord (Selvey)
But you don’t really care for county cricket, do you?
It goes like this
The leave, the graft
The minor fall of a tailender, the major lift over cover
The baffled king-of-spain composing dossiers.

County cricket, County cricket
County cricket, County cricket

Your faith in Lyth was strong but you needed proof
You saw him batting on the roof
His beauty in the morning light overthrew you
He tied you to your plastic chair
He broke the opposition, and cut them behind square
And from your lips she drew the “Hallelujah!” (Scyld Berry’s got another player to champion every Sunday)

County cricket, County cricket
County cricket, County cricket

But I have been here before
I know this room, I’ve walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew it.
I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
The championship is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a brutal six month slog.

County cricket, County cricket
County cricket, County cricket

There was a time when Scyld Berry let me know
What’s really going on below
But now he never shows it to me, do you?
And remember when I sat next to you
The Graeme Swann was bowling too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

County cricket, County cricket
County cricket, County cricket

Maybe there’s a God above
But all I’ve ever learned from County cricket
Was how to drive at someone who bowled an outswinger at you.
It’s not a cry you can hear at night
It’s not those fans who haven’t seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a brilliant county season

County cricket, County cricket
County cricket, County cricket

You say I took the name of this song in vain
I don’t even know the name
But if I did, well, really, what’s it to you?
There’s a blaze of light in every world
It doesn’t matter which you like
The IPL or the “Broken” County cricket

County cricket, County cricket
County cricket, County cricket

I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel outside off, so I tried to touch to leg
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though it will all go wrong for Essex
I’ll stand before the Lord Selvey of Uphill-into-the-Wind
With nothing on my tongue but county cricket

County cricket, County cricket
County cricket, County cricket

(Apologies to Leonard Cohen)

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