A Liverbird Upon My Chest

Here's a song about a football team
The greatest team you've ever seen
A team that play total football
They've won the league, Europe and all

Chorus:
A Liverbird upon my chest
We are the men, of Shankly's best
A team that plays the Liverpool way
And wins the Championship in May

With Kenny Dalglish on the ball
He was the greatest of them all
And Ian Rush, four goals or two
Left Evertonians feeling blue

Now if you go down Goodison Way
Hard luck stories you hear each day
There's not a trophy to be seen
'Cos Liverpool have swept them clean

Chorus

Now on the glorious 10th of May
There's laughing reds on Wembley Way
We're full of smiles and joy and glee
It's Everton 1 and Liverpool 3

Chorus

Now on the 20th of May
We're laughing still on Wembley Way
Those Evertonians feeling blue
at Liverpool 3 and Everton 2

Chorus

And as we sang round Goodison Park
With crying blues all in a nark
They're probably crying still
at Liverpool 5 and Everton 0

Chorus

We remember them with pride
Those mighty reds of Shankly's side
And Kenny's boys of '88
There's never been a side so great

Chorus

Now back in 1965
When great Bill Shankly was alive
We're playing Leeds, the score's 1-1
When it fell to the head of Ian St John

Chorus

On April 15th '89
What should have been a joyous time
Ninety-six friends, we all shall miss
And all the Kopites want justice

JUSTICE!

Chorus

Bring On The Manchester United

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 Liverpool the team that we adore

Fields of Anfield Road

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
Now it's glory round the Fields of Anfield Road

Chorus
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

F**k Off Chelsea F.C.

F**k off Chelsea F.C
You ain't got no history
5 European cups and 18 leagues
That's what we call history!

Oh Campione!

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

Poor Scouser Tommy

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 (dying dying)
With the blood gushing 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's dressed 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!

Torres Bounce

To the tune of The Animals Went In Two By Two 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

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

You'll Never Walk Alone

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