It's not the length of the queue, it's the getting to the front in the end,
it's not the muddled blocks
it's the syncronicity of friends,
it's not the missed bus,
it's the one in the nick o' time,
it's not the clapperless bell,
it's the one with splendid chime.
It's not the laughter gone, or the last spilt drink,
it's the happy of the moment in the ones we sink;
it's not the toast that falls face down, it's the one that lands sunny side up,
it's not the day you lost, it's the day you won the cup.