I grew up somewhere that's never really had a serious football team, a place called Scotland. Every few years, I write a little anthem to whatever tournament we're either missing or leaving early.
Come unpack your kit and get ready to play
It's time for a ludicrous soccer display
In Canada, Mexico, US of A
The land of the brave and of freedom
Or that's what the FBI's told me to say
I'll be a-cheering for Sweden
I have some bad news that's going to hurt
My decades-old Sweden top's bitten the dirt
To another team's kit I have had to revert
This one is also moth-eaten
I'm too tight-fisted to buy a new shirt
But still I'll be cheering for Sweden
To Scotland fans getting all anticipatey
I have to advise you to hold on there, matey
I've followed this football team since the mid 1980s
Whenever we're there, we get beaten
My money's on getting gubbed 3-0 by Haiti
That's why I'm cheering for Sweden
Come FIFA and IFAB, you know the score
The World Cup's a great time to mess with laws
VAR, water breaks, countdowns galore
I'm sure that there's been some misreadin'
'Cause Trump's in the running for the Ballon d'Or
Without even playing for Sweden
Anyone but England? I'd not be so gauche
You'll find my maturity's beyond reproach
I'm sure Thomas Tuchel's a fabulous bloke
Who'd give up his seat, should you need one
But I'm here for a team with an English coach
I'll be a-cheering for Sweden
(This is Bob Dylan's tune, not mine. Although obviously I don't sing it quite like he does.)