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Manchester, I never would've guessed,
For some reason that beats hard in my chest,
I am blessed.
Never out of my head,
And with every rising sun I see,
That here, within, lies the truth in me,
And many others through Rose tinted specs, and here, we three,
Kings of all we purvey, yes, we,
Bring close the love and fortune.
For ever and ever, Our men,
Standing tall,
Before the world, braves,
Risen from the wombs of knaves'
Wives' bellies, grown as oak,
Yet supple as willow,
And never weeping sad,
Glad are we who see these kings,
Adorned in colour of Blue and Red,
Yes, Blue and Red
As this is Manchester,
Where men stand together,
Strong and silent,
Together, mighty,
Whether a Citizen or United.
Herein lies the heart that beats,
Despising all those who cheat,
Themselves of pride and honour,
As we who watch from the cold sides,
Breath lingering on air,
While summer sleeps and salmons leap,
Still here, We’re still here!
But we’re never still.
Our colours steadfast and true,
Loyal to those Red and Blue,
Not kissing crests and deserting next noon,
As one lover meeting another, forbidden, soon,
No, mercenary love is no love at all,
Standing left one second,
Then right,
With no guilt, no shame,
But with pockets full of cheap gained grain,
Lies, deceit,
Enough to make a Man queuing, (an honest Man) for tickets weep,
With disgust,
At those in whom we placed our trust,
To see trust spat back,
And rewarded for such
But we, heads held high,
Can say that after all said,
We remain, forever, Blue and Red.
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