O Captain! my Captain! your injury is gone,
Your knee has gone and fixed itself, the convalescence done,
Return is near, the sound we hear is LVG exulting,
Your comeback means our young attack will soon be old and slowing;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O weeping Fred the Red,
In the reserves our Captain plays,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! the others too are well;
Phil Jones — at last the wind has changed and mended all his ills,
And Ashley Young is coming back, which isn't that exciting,
But gives Van Gaal another way to keep his fullbacks switching;
But Captain! dear captain!
This new hair on your head!
For in the under-21s,
You've fallen cold and dead.
And when it comes to Tottenham, our manager is clear,
"They have a very good squad, I [said] this also last year,
"He's made a team that presses high [with] good positional game,
"They score a lot of goals. Oh how I wish we did the same."
He didn't say that last bit
No need that it be said,
And Rooney's down among the stiffs,
Fallen cold and dead.