Sung to the tune of Benny Hill's ERNIE ( THE FASTEST MILKMAN IN THE WEST)

You could ‘ear the ‘oofbeats pound
As they trundled ‘cross the ground
And though they looked like lost old boys
They still wheeled round and round
Heads up each others’ ar$e, It was impossible to pass,
Not going forwards only back
They called them England
The team that had the slowest pack .

Their games were all so staid
That only the forwards played
And the backs stood by
Their hands shoved in their pocket
If by some fluke or stroke
The opposition broke
The backs were called upon
To try and block it.
They called them England
And they had the slowest pack in the Test

Now England had a leader
A man who had a dream
Called Mighty Mart from Twickenham
And he was in charge of that team
He said he’d like attrition
“Don’t throw the ball about
And anyone who runs it
Well, he’ll be chucked right out”

He had a team of helpers
They backed him all the way
The game plan wasn’t to try and score,
But to put a stop to play.
They called themselves the coaches
Their mantra “Train, train, train
And if there’s still a sign of talent
We’ll make them train again”
Their names we don’t remember
But they coached the slowest pack in the Test

Now England had a Captain
A man who knew the song
Who would say after every game
“Well, we’ve done nothing wrong
We’re happy with the players
The team, the plan, the style
You might not see it now
But you will do in a while”
He played for England
And he led the slowest pack in the Test

They played the game with no real pace
It was too slow for some
And at 80 quid a ticket
Lots wished they hadn’t come
Though Mart and his team were happy
They were in for quite a jolt
‘Cos strange things happen on the terraces
When the crowd starts to revolt

Well England had a committee
Called the Prawn Sandwich Brigade
And they watched every match from high
Through their gin and lemonade
They thought there was no problem
They didn’t know why all the fuss
“We have a great day out for free
There’s nothing wrong with us”
They were the Committee
They drank to the slowest pack in the Test

But things were not entirely well
The fans were getting bored
And one big match at Twickenham
No sign of the horde
A ghostly hush fell on HQ
The fans had stayed away
And to the team, the boss, the f@rts,
It finally hit home that day

“What’s gone on here, Where have they gone”
In surprise they cried as one
The groundsman walked in the room
“I’ll tell you what you’ve done.
You’ve shown the world of rugby
How not to play the game
The fans have voted with their feet
Now hang your heads in shame”
His name was Ted the groundsman
And he saw the trouble with the slowest pack in the Test

So there you have the story
Of how the mighty fall
When you make an easy game too hard
To run wide with the ball.
But supporters are a fickle lot
It may not be too late
Though many changes are required
To keep the fans coming through the gate
They called them England
The slowest pack in the Test