That's Moldova
And another thing
I'm discovering lately
I'm a bit crazy
For my Rugby League Country
Now the stage is set
The best rep match yet, you'll see
And you'll see
And you'll hear me
When we knock you over
That's Moldova
"Where the f#!@ is that?"
I can hear you ask... fair enough
It's ex-commie land
From good old Soviet stock
I'm a Sevens man
Our game demands pure skill
Any my team will
Knock off the Aussie's block
That's my country (you gotta know)
They say, yeah, they say
They're gonna try to make us pay
They say, yeah, but I say
We're ready and we're on our way
To World Cup Final Day
And another thing
I've been wondering lately
Am I crazy
To believe in my team?
No I'm a footy fan
So you understand my scene
Is seeing my team
Fulfill a representative dream
That's my country (I want you to know)
Letting you know
We've had several invasions, but
Beating the Roos well that's my dream
(two thousand and four)
Oh yeah, Oh yeah, Oh yeah,
That's my country
That's Moldova
___________________
For more info on Moldova:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moldova
PS. The national anthem is quite appropriate for Forum 7's (I've highlighted my favourite line):
Our Tongue
A treasure is our tongue that surges
From deep shadows of the past,
Chain of precious stones that scattered
All over our ancient land.
A burning flame is our tongue
Amidst a people waking
From a deathly sleep, no warning,
Like the brave man of the stories.
Our tongue is made of songs
From our soul's deepest desires,
Flash of lighting striking swiftly
Through dark clouds and blue horizons.
Our tongue is the tongue of bread
When the winds blow through the summer,
Uttered by our forefathers who
Blessed the country through their labour.
Our tongue is the greenest leaf
Of the everlasting forests,
Gentle river Nistru's ripples
Hiding starlight bright and shining.
Utter no more bitter cries now
That your language is too poor,
And you will see with what abundance
Flow the words of our precious country.
Our tongue is full of legends,
Stories from the days of old.
Reading one and then another
Makes one shudder, tremble and moan.
Our tongue is singled out
To lift praises up to heaven,
Uttering with constant fervour
Truths that never cease to beckon.
Our tongue is more than holy,
Words of homilies of old
Wept and sung perpetually
In the homesteads of our folks.
Resurrect now this our language,
Rusted through the years that have passed,
Wipe off filth and mould that gathered
When forgotten through our land.
Gather now the sparkling stone,
Catching bright light from the sun.
You will see the endless flooding
Of new words that overflow.
A treasure will spring up swiftly
From deep shadows of the past,
Chain of precious stones that scattered
All over our ancient land.
![[furrycat]](/data/avatars/m/6/6602.jpg?1213416722){kind=avatar}
