Chariots of Fire

# With cat-like tread
# Upon our prey we steal
# In silence dread
# Our cautious way we feel
# No sound at all
# We never speak a word
# A fly's footfall would be distinctly heard
# Come friends, who plough the sea
# Truce to navigation
# Take another station
# Let's vary piracy
# With a litle burglary
I wish you could see, Ma, the wonderful
spirit abroad now we've left England.

Harold on the piano
with his beloved Gilbert and Sullivan.

We're all laughing and relaxing,
chatting about anything but running.

We're here for Britain and we know it.
I'm here for you, Ma.
You and Pa. I hope I do you proud.
There's not a chap amongst us
who isn't ready to burst his heart
for all we've left behind.

"American champions arrive in France. "