The Glenbuck Cherrypicker From Ayrshire
¶ 1
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In the breeze fluttered the old banners,
His court bestowed their good manners.
A Cherrypickers widow they did passionately applaud,
For the Ayrshire Scot they idolised and adored.
A folk hero and a legend he became,
All be it from the love of a game.
But his passion was stronger than others,
It flowed into fathers and brothers.
Their honour and respect he did seize,
As he raised a great club from it’s knees.
With a clench of his fist,
And the grit of his teeth,
The Red of the city arose from beneath.
From the beat of his heart,
To the strength of his jaw,
As true as The Mersey,
His words were the law.
Now picture his face,
Then look in his eyes,
He bred the belief to win the great prize.
His spirit’s been there from birth,
A desire that could conquer the earth.
Not forgetting his working class roots,
From Glenbuck they wore miner’s boots.
Like his brothers he washed off the coal,
With dreams to score the great goal.
When ready to be a Cherry they were gone,
His dream of this team carried on.
A Cherrypicker in a blue Scottish shirt,
No shame to be covered in dirt.
His demands were an honest hard fight,
The old banners were soon out in flight.
They still speak his voice,
And see with his eyes,
For he bred the belief to win the great prize.
Now the old tell the young the story,
How he came and he led them to glory.
He assembled a team to be feared,
The people respectfully cheered.
She walked out on the Anfield arena,
They applauded as soon as they seen her.
For they still sing his name and fly on his wing,
Bill Shankly’s a legend,
A messiah and a king.
¶ 2
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BILL SHANKLY
1913-1981
¶ 3
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Robbie Kennedy Bennett
2001
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