Football Poets

The Angel of Anfield (II)

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 The Angel of Anfield came down from heaven
He has a red scarf in one hand in the other a bible
He was watching the kids with their mothers, their aunties
And their uncles, their cousins, some twice removed, their memories
Collected like rain in a shoe, they were sat with the arl uns who spoke
Of Bill Shankly, they were sat with the young uns who spoke of him too
And the Angel he smiled at the faces familiar and watched the kids
With their fathers as they came to the table and the songs they were singing went straight to his heart,

¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 There’s a girl in the kop with the sun in her eyes
She looks for the past in the present of dreaming
The boy with his heart on the pitch with his heroes,
give him one chance He could be Steven Gerrard
Down on the sidelines ‘neath the flags, scarves and banners
There’s Rafa, a legend, and in our time
His moments of glory one day will be measured
His Song “La Bamba” is sound, and inspired

¶ 3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Carra his passion he wears like a badge
and he’d pulls on the red shirt for love, not the fame or the cash,
And the vine that grew sour is now tasting so sweet
And the Angel he sat amongst those come to worship
The husband, the wife, the girl gone 3 months, the newly engaged
And there’s those who are slaves to their pre teen age hormones
They gaze down at King Luis with the thoughts of those older
Their make up too heavy their skirts way too short, football and life…
At the top of the house is the rustle of footsteps they want to clear out the attic take a broom to the dust from the ghosts on the wall,
progress or profit?
No one is talking, nobody is sure…

¶ 4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 And the Angel he smiles at the lad in the kop with the stars in his eyes
On the skin of his soul he has scribbled his words
The goals that he witnessed stitched to the soles of his dreams
There’s a prayer for the sold out the moments that passed by
The given the taken the blessed and the damned
There’s a prayer for the few going up from the many there’s a prayer for a win as a lone voice says grace for our la Djibril Cisse
There’s those wrapped in scarves those wrapped in flags those wrapped in thoughts that they know they should discard, still…
We can bask in the time that we all sit now as one, “you’re here” is what matters and not where you’re from, with the truth still reflected
The colours of football, and life…

¶ 5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 There’s a lad in the kop alone but not lonely
Remembers the journey the names there now different
But the passions the same, and the faces and memories remain
The kop starts to chant and they cheer on their heroes they’ve spent all
Their money and paid all their dues, their hearts joined together
Man Woman and Child, the lads in the red race out to their family
The roar for the redmen goes up to the stars…
And the Angel of Anfield he smiles again as he whispers:
“If we give up on Liverpool, we give up on life”.

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