On Peter Gentle leaving Hull FC

Do not go Gentle into that good night,

Old players burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the black and white.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their players broke no defence they

Do not go Gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced on a green sward,

Rage, rage against the dying of the black and white.

Wild men caught offside and ran in fright,

And learn, too late, they ballsed up on its way,

Do not go Gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like O'Meley and Richard Gay,   

Rage, rage against the dying of the black and white.

And you, dear head coach, forlorn on the sideline,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go Gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the black and white.