Let me tell you the story of a poor boy
Who was sent far away from his home
To fight for his king and his country
And also the old folks back home
So they put him in a Highland division
Sent him off to a far foreign land
Where the flies swarm around in their thousands
And there's nothing to see but the sands
In a battle that started next morning
Under a Libyan sun
I remember that poor Scouser Tommy
Who was shot by an old Nazi gun
As he lay on the battle field dying
With the blood rushing out of his head (of his head)
As he lay on the battle field dying (dying dying)
These were the last words he said...
Oh...I am a Liverpudlian
I come from the Spion Kop
I like to sing, I like to shout
I get thrown out quite a lot (every week)
We support the team that plays in red
A team that we all know
A team that we call Liverpool
And to glory we will go
We've won the League, we've won the Cup
We've been to Europe too
We played the Toffees for a laugh
And we left them feeling blue - Five Nil !
One two
One two three
One two three four
Five nil !
Rush scored one
Rush scored two
Rush scored three
And Rush scored four!
Outside the Shankly Gates
I heard a Kopite calling :
Shankly they have taken you away
But you left a great eleven
Before you went to heaven
And the red men are still playing the same way
All round the Fields of Anfield Road
Where once we watched the King Kenny play (and he could play)
We had Heighway on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
Of the glory round the Fields of Anfield Road
Outside the Paisley Gates
I heard a Kopite calling
Paisley they have taken you away..
You led the great 11
Back in Rome in 77
And the redmen they are still playing the same way
All round the Fields of Anfield Road
Where once we watched the King Kenny play (and he could play)
We had Heighway on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
Of the glory round the Fields of Anfield Road.
When you walk through a storm,
Hold your head up high,
And don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of a storm,
There's a golden sky,
And the sweet silver song of a lark.
Walk on through the wind, Walk on through the rain,
Though your dreams be tossed and blown..
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart,
And you'll never walk alone.......
You'll never walk alone.
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart,
And you'll never walk alone.......
You'll never walk alone.
O come all ye faithful,
joyful and triumphant
O come ye, O come ye to Anfield
Come and behold them
They're the Kings of Europe
O come let us adore them
O come let us adore them
O come let us adore them
L I V E R P O O L!
London Bridge is falling down
Falling down, falling down
London Bridge is falling down
Poor old Chelsea
Build it up with Red and White
Red and White
Red and White
Build it up with Red and White
Poor old Chelsea
In the town where I was born, Lived a man who sailed to sea
And he told us of his pride. They were a famous football team,
So we trailed to Anfield Road Singing songs of victory
There we saw the Holy Ground Of our hero, Bill Shankly.
We all live in a red and white Kop,
A red and white Kop,a red and white Kop.
We all live in a red and white Kop,
A red and white Kop, a red and white Kop.
Oh campione
The one and only, we're Liverpool
They say our days are numbered - we're not famous anymore
But Scousers rule the country like we've always done before..... Oh campione
We Love you Liverpool we do. We Love you Liverpool we do.
We Love you Liverpool we do. Oh Liverpool we love you.
Shankly is our hero, he showed us how to play
The mighty reds of Europe are out to win today
He made a team of champions, with every man a king
And every game we love to win and this is what we sing.
We Love you Liverpool we do. We Love you Liverpool we do.
We Love you Liverpool we do. Oh Liverpool we love you.
Clemence is our goalie, the best there is around
And Keegan is the greatest that Shankly ever found
Heighway is our favourite, a wizard of the game
And heres the mighty Toshack to do it once again.
We Love you Liverpool we do. We Love you Liverpool we do.
We Love you Liverpool we do. Oh Liverpool we love you.
We've won the league, we've won the cup, We're masters of the game.
And just to prove how good we are We'll do it all again.
We've got another team to beat and so we've got to try
'Cos we're the best in all the land And that's the reason why ..
We Love you Liverpool we do. We Love you Liverpool we do.
We Love you Liverpool we do. Oh Liverpool we love you.
This is from Rome 77 but will equally work in Rome 09.
In My Liverpool Home
The Reds are playing in Rome
We'll give them a game that they'll never forget
Goal after goal will go into the net
And one thing is certain they'll give us their best
The Reds are playing in Rome
The armband proved he was a red
Torres, Torres.
You'll never walk alone it said
Torres, Torres
We got the lad from sunny spain
He gets the ball and scores again
Fer-nan-do Tor-res,
Liverpool's number 9
...bounce...
Na na na na na na na na
Na na, Na na (or Torres!, Torres!)
Na na na na na na na na
Na na, Na na (or Torres!, Torres!)
Na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na
Fer-nan-do Tor-res
Liverpool's number 9
When we find ourselves in times of trouble, Stevie G runs past me,
Playing the game with wisdom, Stevie G,
And in my home, the Spion Kop, We watch him jog, right in front of me,
Spreading balls with wisdom, Stevie G,
Let it be, let it be, let it be,
Stevie G, The local lad turned hero, Stevie G
And when the jubilant Kopite people, All living in The Park agree,
That we all know the answer, Stevie G,
And although we may all be fooled, There is still a chance that we will see,
The footballing phenomenon, Stevie G,
Let it be, let it be, let it be,
Stevie G, Spreading balls with wisdom, Stevie G
And when the night is cloudy, There is still a man that we all see,
A young, committed Kopite, Stevie G,
Playing to the sound of music, Stevie G runs past me,
Playing the game with wisdom, Stevie G,
Let it be, let it be, let it be, Stevie G,
For we all know the answer, his name is Stevie G
Oh lets drink, a drink, a drink
To Billy the king, the king, the king,
The creator of the greatest team,
For he invented professional football,
And this year we'll win the league.
Now Gerry Byrne,
Refused a tourniquet,
When he's broken his collarbone,
And they just rubbed on medicinal compound,
And Gerry goes marching on, on, ON!
Oh lets drink, a drink, a drink
To Billy the king, the king, the king,
The creator of the greatest team,
For he invented professional football,
And this year we'll win the league.
Stevie Heighway's always running
John Toshack is always scoring
Then you'll hear the Koptites roaring
Toshack is our king
Men of Anfield here's our story
We have gone from great to glory
We're the greatest team in Europe
Toshack is our king !
Paddy Bergers always running
Michael Owens always scoring
Then you hear the kopites roaring
Fowler is our king
If I had the wings of a sparrow
If I had the arse of a crow
I'd fly over Old Trafford tomorrow
And shit on the bastards below below
I'd shit on the bastards below.
Let me tell you of our football team,
Liverpool is the name.
We've won the league, we've won the cup,
We're the finest in the game,
We've got the greatest skipper any manager could employ,
Lets drink six crates to big Ron Yeats,
Bill Shankly's pride and joy.
To the tune of Can't Take My Eyes Off You Lyric by Frankie Valli
You're just too good to be true,
Can't take the ball off of you,
You've got a heavenly touch,
You pass like Souness to Rush,
And when we're all drunk in the bars,
We thank the Lord that you're ours,
You're just to good to be true,
Can't get the ball off of you...
Oh Steven Steven Steven Gerrard
Oh Steven Steven Steven Gerrard
Oh Steven Steven Steven Gerrard
Oh Steven Steven Geeeer-raaaard
Oh Steven Gerrard
Because he hates Man U
Oh Steven Gerrard
He hates the Blueshite too
Oh Steven Gerrard
You're a Red through and through
A-L-O-N-S-O It's Alonso, Xabi Xabi Alonso
A-L-O-N-S-O It's Alonso, Xabi Xabi Alonso
He came from Sociedad to play in our midfield,
His passing and his shooting are sublime,
If we had to choose between him and Fat Frank,
We would choose Xabi everytime.
A-L-O-N-S-O It's Alonso, Xabi Xabi Alonso
A-L-O-N-S-O It's Alonso, Xabi Xabi Alonso
We drew Luton Town in the FA Cup,
Xabi and the keeper had a race,
Xabi had a shot from 70 yards,
You should have seen the look on Gerrard's face.
A-L-O-N-S-O It's Alonso, Xabi Xabi Alonso
A-L-O-N-S-O It's Alonso, Xabi Xabi Alonso
Bring on the Manchester United
Bring on the Cockneys by the score
And we'll take you two by two
And we'll kick f*ck out of you
Cos Liverpools the team that we adore
(chorus)
Oh bitterness, bitterness
The only thing the blues possess,
I thank the lord that I’ve been blessed,
With none of the blueshite bitterness….
To me this world is a wonderful place,
A red and white glow all over my face,
I feel so good to be alive,
European cups, oh we’ve got five….
(chorus)
The bitters were living in a land of dreams,
“you’ll lose if you ever face a decent team”
But Juventus, Chelsea and Milan tried,
They all got beat so the blueshite cried….
(chorus)
At half time AC thought they had us beat,
The blueshite were dancing in the North Wales streets,
But Stevie G played like a man possessed,
So all they’ve got now is their bitterness….
(chorus)
They said Milan Baros was offside,
They say Steven Gerrard took a dive,
They say Jerzy Dudek shouldn’t have no pride,
But they’ve got none and we’ve got FIVE….
(chorus)
Oh bitterness, bitterness,
The only thing that they possess,
If it wasn’t for Heysel they would be the best,
But they prefer living in bitterness.
Ste Gerrard Gerrard
He'll pass the ball 40 yards
He's big and he's f***ing hard
Ste Gerrard Gerrard
(or)
Ste Gerrard Gerrard
He'll bust em from 40 yards
He's scouse and he's f***ing hard
Ste Gerrard Gerrard
Our number 1 is Carragher
Our number 2 is Carragher
Our number 3 is Carragher
Our number 4 is Carragher
Carragher!
We all dream of a team of Carraghers a team of Carraghers a team of Carraghers
We all dream of a team of Carraghers a team of Carraghers a team of Carraghers
Our number 5 is Carragher
Our number 6 is carragher
...etc
Oh Manchester (Oh Manchester)
It's full of sh**, it's full of sh**
Oh Manchester is full of sh**
It's full of sh**, sh** and more sh**
Oh Manchester is full of sh**
We shall not we shall not be moved
We shall not we shall not be moved
Just like the team
that's going to win the (European Cup/Championship/FA Cup)
We shall not be moved
If you're tired and you're weary,
And your heart skips a beat,
You'll get your f**king head kicked in,
If you walk down Heyworth Street,
If you come to The Albert,
You'll hear our famous noise,
Get out you Everton b**tards,
We're the Billy Shankly Boys…
We're the boys from The Kop,
We're loyal and we're true,
And when we play the Everton,
We're ready for a do,
With a cry of "no surrender",
You'll hear our famous noise,
Get out you Everton b**tards,
We're the Billy Shankly Boys
Stamford Bridge is falling down
Falling down, falling down
Stamford Bridge is falling down
Poor old Chelsea
Build it up with Red and White
Red and White
Red and White
Build it up with Red and White
Poor old Chelsea
To the tune of She'll Be Coming Round The Mountain
We're the best behaved supporters in the land (when we win)
We're the best behaved supporters in the land (when we win)
We're the best behaved supporters
The best behaved supporters
We're the best behaved supporters in the land (when we win)
We're a right shower of bas****s when we lose
We're a right shower of bas****s when we lose
We're a right shower of bas****s
A right shower of bas****s
We're a right shower of bas****s when we lose (but we don't)
Every other Saturday's me half day off
And it's off to the match I go
You’ll see me walking down the Anfield Road
Me and me old pal Joe
We love to see the lasses with their red scarves on
We love to hear the Kopites roar
But I don't have to tell you that best of all
We love to see the Liverpool scooooore (scooore)
We've won the English League about a thousand times
UEFA was a simple do
We gave some exhibitions in the FA Cup
We are the Wembley Wizards too
But when we won the European Cup in Rome
Like we should have done years before
We gathered down at Anfield
Boys a hundred thousand strong
To give the boys a welcome hoooome
Kenny ohhh Kenny
I'd walk a million miles for one of your goals oh Kenny
ohhh Kenny...
We are the Scousers
The cocks of the north
We hate Man United
And City of course
We only drink whiskey
And bottles of brown
The Liverpool boys
Are in town
On the first day of Christmas, Bob Paisley sent to me
A Clemo in our goal
On the second day of Christmas, Bob Paisley sent to me
Two Phil Neal's and a Clemo in our goal
On the third day of Christmas, Bob Paisley sent to me
Three Joey Jones', two Phil Neal's and a Clemo in our goal
On the fourt day of Christmas, Bob Paisley sent to me
Four Tommy Smith's, three Joey Jones', two Phil Neal's and a Clemo in our goal
On the fifth day of Christmas, Bob Paisey sent to me
Five Ray Kennedy's, four Tommy Smith's, three Joey Jones', two Phil Neal's and a Clemo in our goal
On the sixth day of Christmas, Bob Paisley sent to me
Six Emlyn Hughes', five Ray Kennedy's, four Tommy Smith's, three Joey Jones', two Phil Neal's and a Clemo in our goal
On the seventh day of Christmas, Bob Paisley sent to me
Seven Kevin Keegan's, six Emlyn Hughes', five Ray Kennedy's, four Tommy Smith's, three Joey Jones', two Phil Neal's and a Clemo in our goal
On the eight day of Christmas, Bob Paisley sent to me
Eight Jimmy Cases', seven Kevin Keegan's, six Emlyn Hughes', five Ray Kennedy's, four Tommy Smith's, three Joey Jones', two Phil Neal's and a Clemo in our goal
On the ninth day of Christmas, Bob Paisley sent to me
Nine Steve Heighway's, eight Jimmy Cases', seven Kevin Keegan's, six Emlyn Hughes', five Ray Kennedy's, four Tommy Smith's, three Joey Jones', two Phil Neal's and a Clemo in our goal
On the tenth day of Christmas, Bob Paisley sent to me
Ten John Toshack's, nine Steve Heighway's, eight Jimmy Cases', seven Kevin Keegan's, six Emlyn Hughes', five Ray Kennedy's, four Tommy Smith's, three Joey Jones', two Phil Neal's and a Clemo in our goal
On the eleventh day of Christmas, Bob Paisley sent to me
Eleven Ian Callaghan's, ten John Toshack's, nine Steve Heighway's, eight Jimmy Cases', seven Kevin Keegan's, six Emlyn Hughes', five Ray Kennedy's, four Tommy Smith's, three Joey Jones', two Phil Neal's and a Clemo in our goal
On the twelth day of Christmas, Bob Paisley sent to me
Twelve David Fairclough's, eleven Ian Callaghan's, ten John Toshack's, nine Steve Heighway's, eight Jimmy Cases', seven Kevin Keegan's, six Emlyn Hughes', five Ray Kennedy's, four Tommy Smith's, three Joey Jones', two Phil Neal's and a Clemo in our goal
We're gonna win the league
We're gonna win the league
And now your gonna believe us
And now your gonna believe us
And now your gonna believe us
We're gonna win the league
Friends, let me tell you of our new sensation,
The man we bought from Skem,
We look to him with great adualation.
As his magic takes it course,
Down either wing along the by way
And soon the world will know,
His name is Heighway.