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Nostaalja

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 They stand and clap in their flat caps
At the ground outside the City
Home is two up, two down – always a draw
They stand and sing their song
It helps them to belong
On the Ball City, never mind the danger…

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 They stand and cheer, they know no fear
At the ground outside the City
Some home from war, they were raw
Recruits signed up, signed off as men
Returning to sing their song
Not heard for five years long
On the Ball City, never mind the danger…

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 They reminisce over days like this
The Cup run of 1959
They didn’t know then, these proud men
Their memories would live on
We stand and sing our song
Green flag ghosts sing along
On the Ball City, never mind the danger…

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Concrete shoots down everything
Around the ground the City now sprawls
Joined up by bars and clubs and malls
Shoe factories were our land of leather
Factories gone now, no sign of graft
Where workers clocked their time, and half
survived redundancy
’til they closed the doors ‘for good’

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 It wasn’t good if you ask around
Families seeking jobs, now wait
No more workers through the gates
We manufacture little now
But we sit and sing our song
On the Ball City, never mind…

Notes

Norwich City fans have been singing On the Ball City for many decades
– I wonder if they’ll still be singing it in fifty years time? How much will survive? Nowadays it’s only the one verse and the last line of that has already been reduced from ‘Hurrah, We’ve Scored A Goal’ to ‘Ohh! City! City!’ It’s only miserable ol’ biddies like me who remember that there were originally several verses of the song, and when I first went to Carrow Road as a teenager, the ground was still outside of the City Centre with just a disused flour mill, a newsagent and a chippy for company (all now gone). Now, a retail park is a pedestrian crossing away, with the delights of Next, Argos, Morrisons, Matalan, Poundland, Boots, to take advantage of the capacity home gates…
Boy do I feel old…

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/nostaalja/