Now when I was a Colt and old Dad was a Vet

Through Lightfoot Green fields we would play

Just a Colt and a Vet, we were both full of fun

We grew up together that way

I remember a scrum at old Clitheroe

When I would have drowned without doubt

But old Dad he was there, to the rescue he came

He jumped in and pulled me right out.

Now the years have rolled by, and Dad he’s grown old

His eyesight was fast going dimmy

And one day old Ennis, he said to me

“I can’t do no more for him, Jimmy”.

With hands that were trembling I picked up my gun

I aimed it at Dad’s faithful head

But I just couldn’t do it, I wanted to run

I wish that they’d shoot me instead.

I went to his side, and old Dad licked my hand

He laid his old head on my knee

And he gave me a look, that seemed for to say,

“You bastard!”

Now old Dad he has gone were good Rugby Vets go

No more with old Dad will I roam

But if vets have a heaven, there’s one thing I know

Old Dad will still be dropping simple catches,

catching the impossible ones

and dummying into second rows