At 2.15pm yesterday, my guinea pig died. I took this as a bad omen. And yet, as I sat in Frank Skinner’s living room watching England play Sweden — the team confidence and spirit so clearly there, Harry Maguire’s and Dele Alli’s headers sealing the day, Jordan Pickford a god among men — I started to experience a strange new feeling.

It’s been, though, a strange week. Since we beat Colombia, a song that Frank, Ian Broudie and I wrote 22 years ago has become — well — what it was 22 years ago, but this time, because of social media and nostalgia and maybe a country in need of a song to sing together, multiplied by 10.

Three Lions expresses a number of things,