Moving In Mysterious Ways: the All Blacks

The All Blacks, man, are they for real? They’re faster than the speed of light Don’t blink, you’ll miss them, they’re surreal I’m awake, not dreaming, right? They just left the French for dead They’re faster than the speed of sound Eyes in the back of every head Feet that fly above the ground What power, what fitness, what on earth Possesses men to be that fine What strange goddess gave them birth What discipline keeps them in line I sit here gobsmacked, oh my days I understand now, here’s the crack; The All Blacks move in mysterious ways Dark Gods of rugby blessed, in black by Gail