Millwall F.C.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 The old Den at Millwall,
was a fortress in itself.
A slight little gaff,
but louder than Tottenham’s Shelf,
To stand on Cold Blow Lane,
or class yourself as a Halfwayliner,
I’ve seen many a poor soul,
leave our gaff,
Wiv more than just a shiner,
As we huddled together,
in times of ice n snow,
But in our hearts,
the sun often shone for us,
It was our Home,
Our castle, our place to go,
We loved that ground,
We loved the people,
for many many years,
and when we were forced out,
our eyes were dull, lifeless,
And full of tears,
Our new ground, for what it’s worth
Is now called the New Den,
I don’t see the Dockers, The Spivs,
The Donkey jacket wearing Men,
A sad ol sight as we sit together now
on the plastic seats,
no more peanut sellers,
curry pies, some even eats,
Take me back to the time,
The Thames,
was full of barges n ships,
Give me back me Ol Den,
And the times we idolised,
good ol Harry boy Cripps,
Times that have passed,
and I know they will never return,
my heart is broken,
It has that yearn,
So now I’ve expressed,
A little of how I feel,
I thank God for my memories,
Of standing on our Jews Hill,
Standing with the best there is,
the best they’ll ever be,
The best football ground ever
The Old Den,
And of course,
Our beloved,


memories that will die with me.

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/millwall-f-c/