We last clashed ten long months ago,
On Liverpool’s own turf.
And on that day, the whole world knows,
We Toffees proved our worth.
Two goals scored by the Boys in Blue,
While from the Reds not one.
So when the final whistle blew,
‘Twas clear to all – we’d won!
A monkey shaken off our backs,
A hoodoo exorcised,
It’s such a shame the pubs were shut,
But we got drunk on pride.
All that’s now ancient history,
We face a challenge new:
Another visit from the Reds,
Who mean to die or do.
That lot aren’t used to losing,
It’s really not their style.
Their Trophy Room is full of pots,
Ahead of us by miles.
That loss at Anfield must have hurt,
Their pride was truly dented.
No greater shame have any felt
Since football was invented.
They want to get their own back,
Of that we’re well aware.
The Reds are hellbent on Revenge,
Beware! Beware! Beware!
Denys E. W. Jones