The Death of a Lancashire Lad
I bet he's up there, his nag astride,
Ferret in sack, terrier by side.
I bet he's up there charming a lass,
Ciggy in gob and mild in glass.
I bet he's up there seeing united win,
Hollering and swearing " get it in".
I bet he's up there happy at last,
No pain no shame no regrets of the past.
I bet he's up there smirking at us,
Ye silly buggers whats all this fuss.
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