Bit O’Red Shed Dead
¶ 1
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A sad day for the Bit o’ Red,
As Sligo folk awoke with dread.
Once more, their broken hearts had bled,
An era’s end, as someone said,
They’ve gone and taken down the Shed,
Where songs were sung and bairns were fed,
And football-loving chaps were bred,
And young men to the club were wed,
And they have put up, in it’s stead,
A stand with atmosphere quite dead,
Where angels now all fear to tread.
And progress through the ground has sped,
But see where its cold eye has led,
For heritage has snapped its thread
And, screaming, from the Showgrounds fled,
Although there’s not a single shred
Of evidence that can be read
To show that heart must yield to head.
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