Remember Helicopter Thursday??
I’ve wound up ma scarf an’ folded ma tap,
Ma tammy’s been carefully laid
In ma wee bedroom shrine
Tae the team that is mine,
Aye… Celtic’s dream making arcade.
Fur eight weeks ah’ll rest, sweet calm on ma breast
And dry oot frae alcohol’s pain
Arise frae ma knees,
Cast aff the DTs,
Till kick-aff comes roon wance again!
It’s runs in the morn and gym after tea
It’s swimming, an’ treks up Munros
Nae fried stuff an’ chips
Nor links made frae lips
An’ filled oot wae ears,bums and nose.
But try as I might, the echo of cheers
Will no’ let me lie fur too long
As sleep shuts ma eyes
Ah’ll hear the crowds’ cries
An’ join in the Champions’ song.
In sweet slumber rapt, again ah’ll replay
An’ wance mair ah’ll taste an’ ah’ll hear
As oor leader Ghord
Pits the ‘gers tae the sword
An’ the glow o’ the title draws near..
An’ fillin’ that dream, their names ever etched
On ma soul, a hero each wan,
A sea white and Green
Jist flooded the scene
As the whirly-bird started tae land.
So never ye fear, fur Celtic’s aye near
The green spark still lights up ma eyes
Ma beating heart glows
An’ frae heid doon tae toes
Ah’ll shine like that fresh polished prize.
An’ now as I lie in happy repose
The video playing again,
The Hi Fi on max
Wae Christy Moore tracks
An’ our enemies raging in vain!
Come August’s shrill call, first kick of the ball
Wae troosers that contour ma frame
Ma waist slim an’ sleek
Will make burds go weak
As I stride up the road tae the game!
A new flag unfurled, the roar of the crowd,
Wan glance back, then on wae the show
The whistle blasts out
The fans have nae doubt,
We’re heading fur four in a row!