Leave a comment on verse 1 0
Oh, I’m an Evertonian, from Merseyside I come,
And not from London, Manchester, Leeds, Newcastle or Brum.
I get my kicks at Goodison, a Toffee to the core,
And on Match Days I always wear the scarf my father wore.
Leave a comment on verse 2 0
That scarf is white and blue, and it’s made of purest wool,
When cold winds blow, it helps to keep me warm.
It was knitted by me Gran, with her two thin, bony hands,
For her only son, whom she, of course, adored.
Leave a comment on verse 3 0
Well, he wore that scarf with pride while he stood and cheered his side,
As he did for five and forty years or more.
And I’m glad to say today that when Everton are playing,
I still wear that woolen scarf me Old Man wore.
Leave a comment on verse 4 0
Just think what tales this scarf might tell if it could only talk!
For it’s seen wins and cruel defeats and dire goalless draws.
It was waved for Our Team in the old days of Dean, as for Harvey and Kendall and Ball,
Now it’s wrapped around me as I set off to see Cahill, Carsley and Stubbsy and all…
Leave a comment on verse 5 0
It matters not the fate I’ll meet when I have breathed my last.
Into the Next World I will take what’s dearest to my heart.
Though I may burn and howl in Hell, or squeeze through Heaven’s door,
Slung round my neck you’ll find, I bet, that scarf my father wore.