It’s grand and national, it’s the Grand National
It’s long, more than just a furlong
It’s once, just once a year
It’s a horse race, but one special one
Aintree hosted, the winner won’t have coasted
Bets placed now, some down to win and others each way
Crowds flock whilst viewers watch
They jostle and bustle as forty line up
Down drops the line and away they go
Riding and jumping reins in hand
Over the first a down go a few
Twenty Nine more now to go
Becher’s Brook is up at six and twenty two
A handful remain and jump the last
No time for also rans, they’ll be last
Tired and worn they blast for the line
Crowds want the outsider, bookmakers the favourite
To the line they charge
But who will it be
For now…
Now we’ll have to wait and see

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