27

27 Hillsborough

The years authorities lied

Told us sterotypes were sound

Had us disbelieve our very eves

Hid the facts when all around

Folks were shouting, how they cried

Fought until the grave and ground

Grabbed them took them to the side

Still they fought till truth was found

The facts they couldn’t hide

Redtopragtop’s shame was not profound

Fans marked and then denied.

 

Murdoch’s trash and Maggies Plan

South Yorks police, where’s your pride?

May we never hear from them again.

Fans Walk on with heads held high

Guilty ones to go to trial

Guilty get what fans never did

A fair trail with no sordid

Headlines in a crappy rag

Who dig in dead phones spreading hate

 

Told us of “Filthy yobs

Drunken yobs with dirty gobs”

But they were decent folk and true

Just fans like me and you

Went to watch their team play

Rain and snow, home and away

Told us “’twas the fans that day

Who spat and stole and peed as well

On dead babies ain’t that swell”

Never more the Rag we’ll buy

A load of crap, a load of lies

Perverting justice all those years

Sobbing families all those tears

I’d like to see them rot in jail

But gong’s they’ll get, tis my fear

And they’ll  cash in with their tales.

 

 

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