Red Flag

[GhettoMoose]

United's flag is deepest red,
It shrouded all our Munich dead,
Before their limbs grew stiff and cold,
Their heart's blood dyed it's ev'ry fold.

Then raise United's banner high,
Beneath it's shade we'll live and die,
So keep the faith and never fear,
We'll keep the Red Flag flying here.

We'll never die, we'll never die,
We'll never die, we'll never die,
We'll keep the Red flag flying high,
Because Man United will never die

06/02/58 - never forgotten.

[MancRed]

[dave208]

The Flowers of Manchester
Terry Mechan Version | Hanky Park Version

One cold and bitter Thursday in Munich, Germany,
Eight great football stalwarts conceded victory,
Eight men who will never play again who met destruction there,
The flowers of English football, the flowers of Manchester

Matt Busby's boys were flying, returning from Belgrade,
This great United family, all masters of their trade,
The Pilot of the aircraft, the skipper Captain Thain,
Three times they tried to take off and twice turned back again.

The third time down the runaway disaster followed close,
There was a slush upon that runaway and the aircraft never rose,
It ploughed into the marshy ground, it broke, it overturned.
And eight of the team were killed as the blazing wreckage burned.

Roger Byrne and Tommy Taylor who were capped for England's side.
And Ireland's Billy Whelan and England's Geoff Bent died,
Mark Jones and Eddie Colman, and David Pegg also,
They all lost their lives as it ploughed on through the snow.

Big Duncan he went to, with an injury to his frame,
And Ireland's brave Jack Blanchflower will never play again,
The great Sir Matt Busby lay there, the father of his team
Three long months passed by before he walked again.

The trainer, coach and secretary, and a member of the crew,
Also eight sporting journalists who with United flew,
and one of them Big Swifty, who we'll ne'er forget,
the finest English 'keeper that ever graced the net.

Oh, England's finest football team its record truly great,
its proud successes mocked by a cruel turn of fate.
Eight men will never play again, who met destruction there,
the flowers of English football, the flowers of Manchester


RIP

[GhettoMoose]

There is a plaque at Man United,
It's underneath the old main stand,
It bears the name of Duncan Edwards,
He was the finest in the land.

But he died on Munich's runway,
Without a tear, without a sound,
His strong body battered and broke,
As he lay helpless on the ground.

From Salford hailed Eddie Colman,
He'd been a Red for all his life,
For the team he'd played for and supported,
Our dear Eddie Colman died.

The oldest babe was Roger Byrne,
He was the captain of the team,
He gave his life for Man United,
With his best friend Liam Whelan.

The Barnsley boy was Tommy Taylor,
He cost nearly thirty thousand pounds,
He gave his life for Man United,
As the plane sleighed on the ground.

But one man survived the aircrash,
And he lived to tell the tale,
Of the boys who played in Red,
For they did not know how to fail.

So we'll drink a toast to Matt Busby,
And we'll drink one to that team,
They were acclaimed the whole world over,
They were the finest ever seen

[GhettoMoose]

48 years ago,
Our team lay in the snow,
Battered and bloodied, some of them died,
Some of them survived.
Charlton and Matt Busby
Took us to Wembley,
We beat Benfica by 4 goals to 1,
All those years ago.