Trent Alexander-Arnold
¶ 1
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Long after the songs have been sung
And the red flares that flooded the sky have slowly dispersed
The billowing flags of poetry and sardonic Scouse wit folded for memories
The football streets of Liverpool find themselves woke once more
No B word for Liverpool was made for Europe
Klopp with his ebullient wide mile smile, aye boss tha’
But Scouse football is always back to childhood for me
And home remains that most nostalgic rose tinted romance
As always holds me fast, unbreakable that umbilical chord of Football Beatles and Grace
The boy in the picture, socks rolled down, face reflective in dreamy contemplation
Lives my dream, our dream, and sets the brimming hope-filled youth in me free.
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