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!