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My daddy left home at ten to three
Went off to Anfield and its field of dreams
To give the Mancs a kickin’ that was well and truly due.
Now I’m not saying that me dad was bad
But d’you know what he done to this little lad?
Before he left, he went and named me Blue.
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Now I’m not saying that me dad was sick
But you’d have to think he was takin’ the Mick
Giving me a name that I hated through and through.
My mates would giggle to my great cost
Especially when Everton lost
I tell ya, life ain’t easy for a Red named Blue.
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Years went by with my dad unseen
The vacuum filled by my wonderful team
Home or away I’d never miss a game.
But deep inside an anger burned
My fists grew clenched and my stomach turned
I could kill the man that gave me this awful name.
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Well it was Gay Paree in eighty-one
We’d beat Madrid and the cup was won
On the banks of the Seine I was knocking back the wine.
When a man approached, looked a bit like me
With a Liverpool scarf and a black trilby
And I knew right there and then it was that swine.
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Yes I knew that git was me dear old dad
From a picture in the Echo that me mam once had
Though his curly perm was confusing on the eye.
He was heading for me and he stank of booze
But I stood my ground with nothing to lose
And I said, “My name is Blue! How do you do? Now you’re gonna die!”
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Well I kicked him hard between the legs
He went for my bottle which was down to the dregs
But I caught him with a hook, sent him crashing to the floor.
But he rose back up, smacked me right in the nose
Red blood splattered me blood-red clothes
But I didn’t back down, even asked if he wanted more.
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Well, I must say I’ve fought tougher men
‘Cause he hit like a girl who was nine or ten
And his punches they just missed me by a mile.
But without so much as a by or leave
He pulled a blade out from his sleeve
And stood there looking at me with that gormless smile.
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And he said: “Son, these times are rough,
And if you’re going the away games then you gotta be tough,
But I couldn’t stick around ‘cause me bird was pregnant too;
So I gave you that name and I said farewell
Though I always meant to give you a bell
When you were old enough to buy me a pint or two.
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“Then time moved on and just never seemed right,
But my plan was right, for you sure can fight
‘Cause that name I gave you meant you just had to.
So you ought to thank me, don’t you think
Instead of kickin’ up such a bleedin’ stink
‘Cause I’m the son-of-a-bitch that named you Blue.”
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The look on his face seemed ever so sad
He tossed down his blade and I called him “Dad”
Then I lent him a tenner and we went for a drink or two.
And I still think of him now and then
When Liverpool lose, or draw, or win
And if I have ever have a son I’m gonna name him….