In the town of Glasgow, where the Celtic play
It’s at Paradise were I was raised,
From the heart of a Sligo man, a dream was born,
Were Celtic’s four-leaf clover is proudly worn.
The songs and the stories our father’s told
Were wrapped in the colours of green, white & gold,
Our faith, heritage & culture came from across the Irish Sea
As we have been baptized on Celtic’s famous history.
At Paradise, on God’s sacred football pitch
Legends have dedicated their lives to a Celtic strip,
Players and games are remembered in song
So to the heroes of Celtic’s departed sons.
On the rooftops of Parkhead, angels of God sit,
Clenching banners & flags, wearing Celtic strips,
They have cheered and sang at every Celtic goal
And cried at the lose of John Thompson’s young soul.
In the town of Glasgow, home to God’s favourite team
Our heart & soul are faithful to Celtic’s emerald green,
And when I depart from this earth and walk through heaven’s gate
I will walk with pride in the colours of Glasgow Celtic.
Nov’16th 2004
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem