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Go Three Lions!!!

Rule Britannia

When Britain fi-i-irst, at heaven's command, Aro-o-o-o-ose from out the a-a-a-zure main, Arose, arose from out the azure main, This was the charter, the charter of the land, And guardian A-a-angels sang this strain: Rule Britannia! Britannia rule the waves Britons never, never, never will be slaves. Rule Britannia! Britannia rule the waves. Britons never, never, never will be slaves. Still more maje-e-estic shalt thou rise, More dre-e-e-e-eadful from each foreign stroke, More dreadful, dreadful from each foreign stroke, Loud blast above us, loud blast that tears the skies Serves but to ro-o-o-ot thy native oak. Rule Britannia! Britannia rule the waves. Britons never, never, never will be slaves. Rule Britannia! Britannia rule the waves. Britons never, never, never will be slaves.