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Poor Scouser Tommy

I’ll tell you a story of a poor boy
Who was sent far away from his home
To fight for his king and his country
And also the old folks back home
So they put him in the Highland division
Sent him off to a far foreign land
Where the flies swarm around in their thousands
And there’s nothing to see but the sand
Well the battle started next morning
Under the Arabian sun
I remember the poor Scouser Tommy
Who was shot by an old Nazi gun
As he lay on the battle field dying (dying dying)
With the blood rushing out of his head (of his head)
As he lay on the battle field dying (dying dying)
These were the last words he said…

Oh… I am a Liverpudlian
I come from the Spion Kop
I like to sing, I like to shout
I go there quite a lot (every week)
We are the team who plays in red
A team that we all know
A team that we call Liverpool
And to glory we will go
We’ve won the League
We’ve won the Cup
We’ve been to Europe too
We played the Toffees for a laugh
And we left them feeling blue

Five Nil !

One two
One two three
One two three four
Five nil !

Rush scored one
Rush scored two
Rush scored three
And Rush scored four!

Na na na na na na na na na!

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