He played for England

He played for England, yes he did,
He played before the war
He was magic with a football
And by God, he made us roar
We saw him on the newsreel
He was talking to the king
he played for England once
but now, It doesn't mean a thing.

His cartilage went at thirty one
His back at thirty two
He left the game at thirty three
With nothing much to do
He couldn't settle down you know
He couldn't find a job
The only skill he'd ever had
Was nodding in a lob

Now in the pub he talks of when
Goals were goals, and men were men
But now the only pass he makes
Is with a glass that someone takes

He thought he world would not forget
To pay him what it owed
That he could live forever
On the memories he'd sowed
But legends mean so little
And memories grow old
As boys create new heroes
And men forget the old

He never goes to see a game
He reckons now it's all the same
Nameless numbers run like hares
The joy is gone, but no one cares

His wife deserted years ago
His kids have gone abroad
He spends his time with scrapbooks
Of the many goals he scored
And on his wall a photograph
Of when he met the King
He played for England once
But now, it doesn't mean a thing

This was also released in New Zealand, slightly re-written, as "He made the All Blacks"!
I remember singing it at Derek Dougan's retirement dinner to universal bafflement. I think they were expecting some rousing piece of crap like a World Cup Willie song!!!!