Poor Scouser Tommy

Let me tell you the story of a poor boy
He 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 a higher land 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

When the battle it started next morning
Under the Olivian Sun
I remember the poor Scouser Tommy
He was shot by an old Nazi gun

As he lay on the battlefield dying
With the blood gushing out of his head
As he lay on the battlefield dying
These were the last words he said

Ooh, I am a Liverpudlian
And I come from the Spion Kop
I like to sing, I like to chant
I go there quite a lot

We support the team that's dressed in red
Is a team that we all know
Is 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 left them feeling blue (5-0)

1-2, 1-2-3, 1-2-3-4, 5-0!