The American Celt
¶ 1
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My father, he said, we were moving away
To make our home in the U S of A,
I cried in my sleep and I cried in my dreams
No more would I see the bhoys in emerald green.
¶ 2
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I travelled to Parkhead for the very last time
Saw goals that were scored by a hero of mine,
No more would I see the skills of Joe McBride,
For New York’s, not home, to the Hoops of green & white.
¶ 3
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I said goodbye to Glasgow, the home of my heart
Said farewell with sadness to old Celtic Park,
I said goodbye to friends, we shared a tear and a laugh
As I started my journey, wearing my green & white scarf.
¶ 4
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On the sidewalks of New York, I would wander,
Through Broadway and onto Times Square,
Whistling to myself, old familiar Celtic tunes,
Wishing I was back at Parkhead every Saturday afternoon.
¶ 5
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On the weekends I would travel to the Dublin House pub
Tell stories; sing songs, of the Celtic Football Club,
With the Irish Americans and the Glasgow exiles
We would talk of the Celtic with tears in our eyes.
¶ 6
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It has been 39 years since I left Glasgow Town
I married a girl, who hailed from County Down,
I wander around Kearny in my green & white strip,
My passion’s still strong for the famous Glasgow Celtic.
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