As Swing Low rang around the Principality Stadium, a lone Welsh voice tried desperately to be heard over the top of the suffocating drone that is English rugby's soundtrack.
"Let's f*****g bring it," it called out amid the din as Wales worked themselves up for an early scrum. That wretched song died down a little.
And then, like clockwork, it started up again as Wales conceded a free-kick on their own feed. That, in essence, was how the day unfolded in Cardiff.
