"Forever and ever,
We'll follow the boys,
Of Manchester United,
The Busby Babes,
For we made a promise,
To defend our faith,
In Manchester United,
The Busby Babes,
We've all sworn allegiance,
To fight till we die,
To stand by United,
And the red flag we fly,
There'll be no surrender,
We'll fight to the last,
To defeat all before us,
As we did in the past,
For we're Stretford Enders,
With United we grew,
To the famous Red Devils,
We're loyal and true,
To part-time supporters,
We'll never descend,
We'll never forsake you,
We'll be here to the end,
For we all remember,
That '58 day,
And the plane that once stood on,
The Munich runway,
As it tried to take off,
For the third fatal time,
The immortal young Babes were,
Cut down in their prime,
In the cold snow of Munich,
They laid down their lives,
But they live on forever,
In our hearts and our minds,
Their names are now legend,
For the whole world to see,
Why this club's a religion,
Spelt M.U.F.C,
So bow down before them,
And lift up your eyes,
For Old Trafford's glory,
Will always survive..."
The Flowers of Manchester
One cold and bitter Thursday in Munich, Germany,
Eight great football stalwarts conceded victory,
Eight men who will never play again who met destruction there,
The flowers of English football, the flowers of Manchester
Matt Busby's boys were flying, returning from Belgrade,
This great United family, all masters of their trade,
The Pilot of the aircraft, the skipper Captain Thain,
Three times they tried to take off and twice turned back again.
The third time down the runaway disaster followed close,
There was a slush upon that runaway and the aircraft never rose,
It ploughed into the marshy ground, it broke, it overturned.
And eight of the team were killed as the blazing wreckage burned.
Roger Byrne and Tommy Taylor who were capped for England's side.
And Ireland's Billy Whelan and England's Geoff Bent died,
Mark Jones and Eddie Colman, and David Pegg also,
They all lost their lives as it ploughed on through the snow.
Big Duncan he went to, with an injury to his frame,
And Ireland's brave Jack Blanchflower will never play again,
The great Sir Matt Busby lay there, the father of his team
Three long months passed by before he walked again.
The trainer, coach and secretary, and a member of the crew,
Also eight sporting journalists who with United flew,
and one of them Big Swifty, who we'll ne'er forget,
the finest English 'keeper that ever graced the net.
Oh, England's finest football team its record truly great,
its proud successes mocked by a cruel turn of fate.
Eight men will never play again, who met destruction there,
the flowers of English football, the flowers of Manchester
http://www.mechanterry.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/theflowersofmanchester.htm
* This post has been modified
: 19 years ago
