With apologies to Henry Newbolt
 

There's a breathless hush in the 'Dome tonight,
Seven to make and the game to win.
The familiar field, the familiar lights,
Two minutes to play and the Offense in.
It's not for the sake of fleeting glory
Nor for the hope of personal fame
but that Brees's eyes stared at them all
'Play hard, play fast. Let's win the game!'

Offensive hands are sodden red.
Red with the blood of protecting Brees
remembering what their Ca[tain said
'Let's bring this D-Line to their knees'.
The team bring hope to a waiting crowd
but the goal line is far, and honour a name.
Still echoes the words around their skulls,
'Play hard, play fast. Let's win the game!'

These are the words that year to year
that in our hearts are burned, are set
2010, our special year
How we felt, we'll not forget.
All as one with joyful mind
we'll bear through life like a torch aflame.
Those golden helms in the Miami sun
'play hard, play fast. Let's win the game.'