IN MY LIVERPOOL HOME
I was born in Liverpool, down by the docks,
My religion was Catholic; occupation - hard knocks.
At stealing from lorries, I was adept,
and underneath overcoats each night I slept.
CHORUS: "In my Liverpool home, D..A..D..D..
in my Liverpool Home, G..G..D..D..
We speak with an accent exceedingly rare;
G.. G. .D.. D.. / (we) meet under a statue exceedingly bare.
[ G.. G.. D..D../A..A..D..D.. If you want a cathedral,
we've got one to spare, in my Liverpool home."
Back in the Forties the world it went mad,
and Hitler he threw at us all that he had.
When the smoke and the dust had all cleared from the air,
"Thank God," said my old man," the Pier Head's still there."
Over at Anfield* the shirts they are red. *LIVERPOOL.
And the players play football as though they were dead.
While over at Goodison* the shirts they are blue, *EVERTON.
and the football they play is fantastic to view.
If it's football you're wanting, the team at the top,
is the team that they're singing about in the Kop;
this city has got two great teams it deserves;
Liverpool ... First Team, and Liverpool Reserves.
I took a walk along Lime Street one day,
I saw a "Young lady" a-heading my way;
"Have you got the right time, love", says I to the lass,
She said, "I've got the time, Jack, if you've got the brass."
When I grew up, I met Bridget Mc Cann;
she said, "You're not much, but I'm needing a man;
I want sixteen kids, and a house out in Speke;
well, the flesh it was willing, but the spirit was weak.
Walton Gaol is the place for a quiet week-end.
Climb over the wall, and you'll meet all your friends.
You can sit and watch telly, drink whisky and beer
and chalk on the prison walls; "Kilroy was here".
We've got wide open spaces like the Wavertree Park,
where it's unsafe by daylight and more so by dark
We've got places of culture like Dingle and Speke,
where they play "tick" with hatchets, and fight with their feet.
We've got romantic places like the Cast-Iron Shore,
where you can find someone else's back door,
We had John, we had George, Ringo and Paul,
the Liverpool Spinners, and the St George's Hall.
Way out in Kirkby, the kids they wear clogs,
there's eight million kids there's ten million dogs.
They play "tick" with hatchets, I tell you no lie,
and they call you a "cissy" if you've more than one eye.
When my last whistle blows & the "Ref Up There" says;
"You've supped your last Guinness,lad, it's the end of your days,"
Take my ashes to Old Trafford and spread them around,
and they won't win a match while I'm haunting the ground.
As performed by Gerry Jones