The Five Minute Choke

[Verso 1] You tasted the crown, then you choked on the lead, Five minutes of failure is all that you breed. Your winger was chirping, a premature boast, Sixty years ghosting, you’re nothing but toast. Buenos en la prensa, MEJORES en el papelón, The lions are kittens, your kingdom is gone. Stars are all packing, the fantasy’s done, While our Number Ten’s masterclass has begun. [Estribillo] Argentina dos, Inglaterra uno, The final is ours, you get ninguno. La Copa nos llama, Sunday is the date, While you cry at home about your fate. [Instrumental break] [Verso 2] At eighty-five flat, the equalizer bit, A pass from the god and your legacy split. At ninety-two minutes, a header so clean, The striker erased every hope of a scene. Buenos en el invento, MEJORES en la decepción, Bitter spectators to our nation's song. Spain’s in the final, get booked for the flight, Rot in the silence of sixty-year night. [Estribillo] Argentina dos, Inglaterra uno, The final is ours, you get ninguno. La Copa nos llama, Sunday is the date, While you cry at home about your fate. [Grito final] ¡A casa, gatitos! ¡La final es nuestra!