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Manchester United 1958-3 of 3
by Robert (Bob) Moore © 2015

I heard Jackie, crying, and when I turned around
I saw the body of Roger Byrne, lay across him on the ground
Jackies arm was bleeding bad, so a tourniquet I tied
and hoped that that would be OK, till more help could arrive

A man had suddenly appeared, a syringe was in his hand
I told him there were more inside, and hoped he’d understand
then suddenly explosions, from the back half of the plane
knocked the doctor off his feet, but he got up again

I turned around and saw them, it was so hard to believe
Bobby and Denis standing there, I was so relieved
I had thought they were both dead, when I pulled them from the plane
now they were both staring, just watching the spreading flame

More rescuers had now arrived, to take over control
I sank to my knees and wept, and deep down in my soul
there in the snow and mud and slush, amidst the awful pain
thanked God that some of us survived, to live our lives again”

The Team returned to Manchester, shattered and torn asunder
8 of them were left behind, and fans could only wonder
7 dead, and Duncan Edwards, still fighting for his life
Would United rise again, and battle through this strife

They finished out the League that year, ninth was where they’d sit
they played Bolton in the FA cup, but their heart was not in it
the team was drained, and they were tired of being labelled “Heroes”
Their friends were dead, and they felt guilty, collecting all these cudoes

21 of 44, would die that fateful day,
but it was a miracle, that any walked away
Captain Rayment and Captain Thain, had done what they felt was right
but this story would not be written, if they’d agreed  to stay the night

Duncan Edwards fought so hard, it was thought that he might live
but with his body broke and torn, he had no more to give, 
after 15 days, he passed away, and Manchester grieved again
he’d joked with Jimmy Murphy, he’d be fit for their next game.

One more would die from injuries, he had received that day
three weeks later, Kenneth Rayment, the co-pilot past away
a decorated flying ace, he had won the DFC,
though doctors fought to save him, it was not to be

There’s not much more that can be said, about that fateful day
we wish that we could just go back, and to the people say
you should stay here for just one more night, a fresh start in the morning
and we would not be crying now, and we would not be mourning
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