In My Liverpool Home
Composer(s): Pete McGovern
Performer(s): The Scaffold



I was born in Liverpool, down by the docks
My religion was Catholic; occupation - hard knocks
At stealing from lorries, I was adept
and underneath overcoats each night I slept

"In my Liverpool home, D..A..D..D..
in my Liverpool Home, G..G..D..D..
We speak with an accent exceedingly rare
G.. G. .D.. D.. / (we) meet under a statue exceedingly bare
G.. G.. D..D../A..A..D..D.. If you want a cathedral
we've got one to spare, in my Liverpool home"
Back in the Forties the world it went mad
and Hitler he threw at us all that he had 
When the smoke and the dust had all cleared from the air
"Thank God," said my old man," the Pier Head's still there"

Over at Anfield (or Liverpool) the shirts they are red
And the players play football as though they were dead
While over at Goodison (or Everton) the shirts they are blue
and the football they play is fantastic to view

If it's football you're wanting, the team at the top
is the team that they're singing about in the Kop
this city has got two great teams it deserves
Liverpool ... First Team, and Liverpool Reserves

I took a walk along Lime Street one day
I saw a "Young lady" a-heading my way
"Have you got the right time, love", says I to the lass
She said, "I've got the time, Jack, if you've got the brass"

When I grew up, I met Bridget Mc Cann 
she said, "You're not much, but I'm needing a man
I want sixteen kids, and a house out in Speke
well, the flesh it was willing, but the spirit was weak

Walton Gaol is the place for a quiet week-end
Climb over the wall, and you'll meet all your friends
You can sit and watch telly, drink whisky and beer 
and chalk on the prison walls; "Kilroy was here"

We've got wide open spaces like the Wavertree Park
where it's unsafe by daylight and more so by dark
We've got places of culture like Dingle and Speke 
where they play "tick" with hatchets, and fight with their feet

We've got romantic places like the Cast-Iron Shore
where you can find someone else's back door
We had John, we had George, Ringo and Paul 
the Liverpool Spinners, and the St George's Hall

Way out in Kirkby, the kids they wear clogs
there's eight million kids there's ten million dogs
They play "tick" with hatchets, I tell you no lie
and they call you a "cissy" if you've more than one eye

When my last whistle blows & the "Ref Up There" says
"You've supped your last Guinness,lad, it's the end of your days"
Take my ashes to Old Trafford and spread them around
and they won't win a match while I'm haunting the ground