Sons of The Mersey
¶ 1
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To Anfield all ye Sons of The Mersey
Poor poets, painters, dreamers of dreams
To seek for truth and never be weary
Let sorrow and sadness fall dying like leaves
Oh Anfield our jewel is calling you hither
Come Redmen come quickly for time she won’t wait
Let your troubles sleep silent peaceful and rested
Success to the redmen and all those of faith
¶ 2
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In the stillness of memory the echoes of glory
What moments we treasure what pleasures known
And the soul of such sweetness has borne us, and freely
The finest that served us the best swords of Rome
The spirit was generous and fed us with plenty
As guests at the banquet of champions all known
But the gift of true greatness is always humility
For this and not silver is what we take home
¶ 3
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Oh you pirates so witty from Liverpool City
Call on the colours and red still the finest
From builders and soldiers and printers and sailors
Scallies and sellers of aught that you like
Bakers and brewers magicians and fools
Those whom the devil would not give a home
We’ll meet with the sinners high rollers and winners
We’ll meet with the redmen where none walk alone.
¶ 4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 (c) tobyjones 2nd january 2004
18
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