Farewell The Prince of Goalies
So tragic, such a loss
At 22, you lie there
'Neath the old stone Celtic cross.
I never got to see you
But stories, I've been told
Of the bhoy who was a legend
When you kept the Celtic goal.
Thousands walked to mourn you
But millions saw you play
And even now we speak of
The Prince who showed the way
For future Celtic 'keepers
Who stand between those posts
But a friend stands there beside them,
Young John Thomson's ghost.
I stand here by your graveside
But no tears come to my eyes
For I know that you're still living
'Tween the posts in Paradise.
Farewell, farewell young Johnny
Your story will be told
How the bhoy from Cardenden became
The Prince in Celtic's goal.
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