All Ghosts and Five-One Falls

[Verse 1] You flew twelve thousand miles just to get rinsed in the rain, Thinking an oval ball mindset could handle this game. Belgium were 'struggling', at least that’s what we heard, Until they met New Zealand and the lines became blurred. Trossard had a brace before the halftime snacks were out, A double-shot of misery while you wandered in doubt. From Auckland to Wellington, the silence is profound, Just eleven shirts drifting on the hallowed ground. [Chorus] Five-one on the board, yeah you’re out of the Cup, Stick to the scrums ‘cause you can't keep it up! All Whites? All Ghosts! You vanished on the grass, Thirty percent possession just watching them pass. Five-one on the board, pack your bags, head away, You’re a rugby nation on a footballing workday! [Verse 2] Check the stats, check the shame, check the minus-four, Eliminated in a night, kicked right out the door. Under thirty percent? Were you even on the pitch? Or just static on the screen, a temporary glitch. You’re the tonic for the thirsty, you’re the cure for the weak, Belgium found their rhythm ‘cause your defense is so bleak. One night in the tournament, one massive collapse, Now you’re checking flight times on your travel apps. [Bridge] You can dance all you want, you can stomp, you can stare, But when the whistle blows, there’s nobody there. A record-breaking exit, a stat-sheet of pain, Washed out of the bracket by a Belgian rain. [Outro] Minus four. Five conceded. All Ghosts. Back to the rugby, lads. Absolute state of it.