The fight for freedom is a convicted man’s loss
Be it in a prison bed or crucified to a cross,
The path of one’s soul is rugged and long
As the burden is lamented in story & song.
...
Over these wet Celtic hills,
On top of these sad Scottish faces,
I lie naked to God
To take my soul from a body that is wasted.
...
Cymru calls home
It’s absent Apostles
For the last spirit
Is dying alone.
...
Tears of angels fell on Liverpool’s streets,
Waves of the Mersey woke from their sleep,
The Liver Bird’s head hung in grief,
Hillsborough’s terracing became a thief.
...
A mermaid’s harp plays to smooth
The wild waves, that crash against
Centuries tears and heartache.
Crying children run barefooted across
...
In the hoops of green
In colours proud
Players, past & present
Heroes to Parkhead’s crowd.
...
In the Archdiocese of Glasgow
In the city’s east end,
Brother Walfrid sat with his assistant Brother Dorotheus,
...
Begging alms to provide alms
For the poor, the starving, the homeless,
Angels would feed his loving heart
To cure the ailing torment of lepers.
...
Football in Scotland,
is a religion on its own
When it involves
both Celtic and Rangers,
...
On Parkhead’s field
A shamrock grows,
A trinity for passing,
Lisbon heroes.
...