UCL Rugby are the Godless Scum.
(To the tune of Que Sera, Sera)
When I was just a little boy,
I asked my
mother what would I be?
Would I be U-C or would I be King's,
Here's what she said to me...
Wash your mouth out son,
Go
fetch you father's
gun,
And shoot all the godless scum,
KCL, C-L.
KCL, C-L,
Whatever will be, will be.
We shat on the LSE,
KCL, C-L.