Football Poets

The Last of the Busby Babes

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Matt Busby and George Best

¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Busby became Manager just after the war
Swapping crowd chants for the battles roar
Matt and Jimmy Murphy started a crusade
Creating a side known as the “Busby Babes”

¶ 3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 The best young talent to United they’d invite
Nurtured like apples till they were ripe
No focus on tactics, just their passion ignited
“Just go out and play, for you are United!”

¶ 4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 They looked invincible, who would have thought
That death would stop them at Munich airport
Feb sixth ‘fifty eight, that terrible day
For a third time they raced down the runway

¶ 5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Next – Sparks. Slashing. Screeching. Smashing
Then – No screaming, no crying, no moaning from the dying,
After all that violence, just an eerie silence
.. .. .. .. and blackness

¶ 6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 The plane had careered out of control
Turning the snow crimson; taking its bloody toll
Eight young men perished that day
Another three would never again play

¶ 7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Lives cut short before they’d hardly begun
What a terrible sight, lads barely twenty-one
lain under blankets, motionless in a row
Once full of life, now silent as snow

¶ 8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 Eight young men would never return
Tommy Taylor, Mark Jones and Roger Byrne
David Pegg, Geoff Bent and Liam Whelan
Big Duncan Edwards and snake hips Eddie Colman

¶ 9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 Waiting for the homecoming of Roger Byrne
News, which tragedy meant he’d never learn
A Father for the first time he was set to become
Eight months after death, Roger had a son

¶ 10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 Duncan Edwards was the bravest of the brave
a one-man team the ultimate Busby babe
a hero frozen in time, forever twenty one
never to discover how good he would become

¶ 11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 As the Father of the team fought for his life
The fate of his sons he enquired of his wife
Each one he asked for, needing to know
She shook her head in a sorrowful “NO”

¶ 12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 From then on the torment was in his eyes
When you lose a son something inside of you dies
Ten years after eight of his adopted sons died
Busby makes the European Final with a brand new side.

¶ 13 Leave a comment on verse 13 0 With ninety minutes gone the score is one one
It was slipping away United are hanging on.
In the dying moments, Eusebio’s denied on the line
Collapsing on the turf, they waited for extra time,

¶ 14 Leave a comment on verse 14 0 Looking as though they might fail at the brink
Big Dunc shouts out, “We ain’t come here for nuffink!”
The spirit of Edwards, Byrne and the rest
Gives new life to Bobby, Nobby and George Best

¶ 15 Leave a comment on verse 15 0 Best takes the game by the scruff of the neck.
Receives the ball and with a swivel and check,
drifts past his marker, through on his own
Ghosts past the keeper, glides the ball home.

¶ 16 Leave a comment on verse 16 0 Sheer magic.

¶ 17 Leave a comment on verse 17 0 All eyes are on Matt as his side takes control
twice more the ball was put into the goal
Look more closely, your eyes will have revealed
an extra eight players are also on the field

¶ 18 Leave a comment on verse 18 0 Winning the cup now fulfilled Matt’s quest
Starting in ‘45 and ending with George Best
From Duncan through Bobby, he was last of the Babes
Spanning life and death, Wembley and the grave

¶ 19 Leave a comment on verse 19 0 To see George play was to be mesmerised
Tormenting defenders leaving them hypnotised
However United and Best, had reached their peak
His God given talent had a destructive streak.

¶ 20 Leave a comment on verse 20 0 As the older players began to fade
The expectancy of greatness heavily weighed
He was totally unsuited to the demands on him.
Being wayward and weak meant the demons would win

¶ 21 Leave a comment on verse 21 0 It’s well documented his fall from grace
All the drunken episodes and commentaries of disgrace
A weak man but always a God on the ball
Please remember him as the greatest Babe of them all