Slip inside an off-spinners mind,

Don’t you know you might find,

Lyon’s not ok,

You said that you’d end careers

But after all these years,

You threw it all away..


Now you’ve started sitting upright in your bed

Cos you’ve let the pressure go straight to your head

Step outside, the summer rides on you

Stand up at the non-strikers end

Let that ball slip through your hands

You ain’t ever gonna run Jack Leach out


And so Garry can wait

It might be too late as the Ashes slip by

The urn slides away…

But don’t look up at Langer

It’s just dismay