Each week I stood, arms by my side,
Watching this cursed game.
Damning the man who ruined it all,
And caused me all this pain.
But then that changed; we were saved,
By a man from lands afar.
Almost as if by a miracle,
Or a wish upon a star.
He turned around a 6 year fall,
Right down to the depths of hell.
Now remember this, so to your children,
Our story you can tell.
We were not the best, we were not the worst,
We were just glad to be there.
In the best league in all of the land,
With the game played good and fair.
But then that changed, something went wrong,
We were undone by one mans greed.
His stubborness, his arrogance,
And his selfishness he had to feed.
I shall not dwell upon that man,
For now our skys are clear.
Just know that if it weren’t for him,
We would not be down here.
In spite of him, and his mistakes,
We all still sing our song.
And every weekend, without fault,
The Saints go marching on.
Do not fret; that time has passed,
The future’s looking bright.
Every week we take to the stands,
And cheer the Red and White.
From the day we’re born, till the day we walk,
Through heavens pearly gates,
Stand, and stand proud my friend,
For we are, and always will be, Saints.