Title: The Kop .....
Post by: Zappa on December 23, 2004, 12:19:25 pm
Over forty years ago I was devoured by the Kop Shankly showed me all I know Redmen taught me to be true And the journey was long And the treasure was good We were made to belong To the kop, where we stood.
To you who speak Txt or in smilies Ye who can’t spell Shanklys name right And can't arsed to read a long thread Or string four words together all night And for this thread I know you won’t thank us So this bits for you: Fuck off you ILMFAO
Heysel’s horror appalled me Hillsborough numbed; I cried In revenge, they killed the Kop And with its death my father died For ten years in mourning I stayed away Till Souness killed my wounded side But the radio was on every match day For the heart of a koppite can’t die
Do you know how it feels? To belong to something With your breath it has sung In your mind it still sings You breathe with its lungs To the beat of its heart You learnt from despair To dance with the Kop in its joy
I was taught the Liverpool way No-one ever walked alone We clapped opponent’s skillful play Loved our players to the bone Songs of history songs of wit The soundtrack to Anfield’s long life Mostly don’t feature “Fuck” or “Shit” Or insult some daft players wife.
A struggling player? then sing out his name. SUPPORT him with honour He’ll come good again. A kid starting out? The mistakes are assured Understanding repaid By the goal he just scored
You tell me I’m getting too old And the glory is all “Auld Lang Syne” But it lingers afresh in my soul And I still see the goals in my mind My emotions say I own this club It owned me; long before you My relationship is purely love Honoured and steadfast and true
What a sterile old place is the Walton Breck End It’s no longer the Kop, it’s no longer a friend Sullen and silent No friends there to meet You all have to sit Reserved ticket seats
Sons and daughters of Walton Breck Road Little faith you display Scant respect you are owed Your allegiance is grey Shallow in faith Your vision is dim You speak well of Shankly But your not from him
We win against Wrexham And you’re wetting your kecks We lose to the Blues And you’re all sulking wrecks. To the “bitters” spit bile With no hope in your hearts And no faith and no style You have borrowed their part!
Adieu to GH a new Shankly we seek Enter Rafa the Saviour Your patience lasts weeks At the start of the season If you’d have thought we’d be here You’d have taken it gladly Now read posts on here!
Bring us Money from Morgan Or Siam or Yanks The dollar is king; Success flows from Banks Oh! let us spend zillions Of pounds we don’t have Mercenaries playing for millions Not for the pride of the badge.
The answer to everything’s money “Yes we bought our success in the sales” “The black market profits were super” “Oh you don’t want to know the details” Raggedy-arsed kids in the boys pen Used to look down from high, and dream dreams They’d need to be up to some scam now To afford the notes to get in.
Music and Boxing and football To no-hopers presented a chance A future, their future- OUR future Through fitness and skill to advance To watch and to learn from the legends Who at Anfields bastion played But we don’t want to know the young kids now And prefer players bought - ready-made
In the glory years Through which we strode We couldn’t match the cash Of them up the East Lancs Road Yet we beat them by building By patience and skill Through the knowledge of Kenny And Joe, Bob and Bill
I am a Liverpudlian I am part of THE Spion Kop I loved, sang and shouted I am everything you’re not I support THE team that’s dressed in red It’s a concept you can’t know It’s a spirit that’s called Liv –er- pool Back to glory we will go
Yes I’m old, and increasingly bitter That from Shanklys foundations we strayed And replaced the supporters with moaners And the kids with the well overpaid But there still lies a hope in my anger Given patience our new time will come We will rebuild his bastion and treasure And complete the job Shankly begun
Moaning Rawkites- I don’t know the names of Or care where you’ve been or you’re from You may sit in your “kop”; its not THE KOP You may sit, but you’ll never belong Sullen and silent and snidey Except for the moans and the boos You are not of THE way; the one true way Please piss off- go and try out the Blues
© VWA 2004
|
Articles posted on this site are copyright of, and are the opinion of,
the contributor where identified
Opinions do not necessarily reflect the views of other contributors, nor
of the owners and technical operators of this website.
The Red & White Kop website has no formal connection to Liverpool
Football Club & Athletic Grounds plc,
nor with any dodgy corporate entity trying to gain kudos by association
with the Mighty Reds.
This site is run by fans for fans. All submissions are welcome.
Information on this site reflects the understanding of the contributor,
and no responsibility is accepted for inaccuracy.
|