Other than at Stoke, sitting on a wooden hall floor during morning assembly and belting out some classics is probably the only other time most of us have sang with others… and we already sing one… why not more?
Lord of the dance
Run, Run
Wherever you maybe,
Cos we are the lads from Stoke City,
We are the lads in red and white,
We are the lads who sing and fight...
He’s got the whole world in his hands
Mark Travers got the ball in his hands
Mark Travers got the ball in his hands
Mark Travers got the ball in his hands
He’s got the whole ball in his hands
Go tell it on the mountain
Go, tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go, tell it on the mountain
That Stoke City are back
Autumn days
At our home where the Coates’ are tooled
Alex Neil inside the dug out
Pearson waiting in the middle to destroy you
All these things we love so well
So you mustn't forget
No, you mustn't forget.
That Pearson’s going to get you
You mustn't forget
From the tiny ant
From Ben Wilmot
From Ben Wilmot
To Josh Laurent
To Josh Laurent
From Johnson to Ben Pearson
From Johnson to Ben Pearson.
From Jacob Brown,
From Jacob Brown
To Andre Vidigal
To Andre Vidigal,
Shout for them it’s up to us.
Shout for them it’s up to us.
Shout for them it’s up to us.
No-one else will shout for them.
It’s up, it’s up
It’s up to us.
Colours of day
Colours of Stoke, dawn into the mind,
Our team has come up, the shit is behind,
Go down in the city, into the street,
And let’s give a message to the people we meet.
Neil lit up the fire and let the flame burn,
Opened the door, with Pearson’s return,
Took pace and power, let us all know,
We’re not fucking shit now, let His team show.
