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May 30, 2016



There’s The Shaymen and The Silkmen,

and many clubs called The U’s.

There’s The Shrimps and The Shrews,

and lots of clubs called The Blues.


There’s Railwaymen and Tractorboys,

and The Brewers and The Shots.

There’s The Cobblers and The Glovers,

and The Red Devils with the hots.


There’s The Spurs and The Gunners,

and The Toon Army and The Tykes,

and The Hammers and The Potters,

and The Pilgrims taking hikes.


There’s the Rams and The Wolves,

and The Eagles and The Seagulls.

There’s The Mariners and The Owls,

and The Saints and The Gulls.


There’s The Shakers and The Trotters,

and The Cherries and The Tangerines.

There’s Pompey and there’s Posh,

and Canaries in yellows and greens.


There’s The Black Cats and The Tigers

and The Hatters and The Dale.

There’s The Bluebirds and The Wanderers,

and The Terriers and The Vale.


There’s The Baggies and The Toffeemen,

and many called The Claret and Blues.

There’s Donny and there’s Palace,

and many more I could chose.


Whatever club our inclination:

Whichever club holds dear, our heart,

we’ll stick with through the ages,

til the day that we depart.


Whether riding high in the top flight,

or in the family leagues below,

Football is our Saviour,

and the game we all love so.


Written by Harriet Blackbury



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