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Post by lurcherman on Feb 21, 2008 23:18:28 GMT
I daren't write alot of the songs we used to sing, some folk would really get upset  |
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Post by CalgaryPotter on Feb 21, 2008 23:22:56 GMT
Remember Boothen singing " paddock paddock sort em out " We should have a sticky thread at the top, of every Stoke song and chant ever sung ;D...... the pc brigade would have squeaky bum time  Was sung at least once a match to my thoughts and usually ended up in the coppers hat flying  I can remember the topside of the paddock getting into it a few times too, especially when the gates went at the bottom of the Boothen |
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Post by Greenhoff is God on Feb 21, 2008 23:24:21 GMT
We don't carry hammers,
We don't carry lead,
We only carry hatchets.........
Knees up mother brown,
Knees up mother brown.........
Oh home on the range,
Where the deer and the antelope play (all day)
Where seldom is heard,
A discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day...Oh home on the range
We are the Potters, We are the Potters, We are the Potters....
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Post by lurcherman on Feb 21, 2008 23:33:32 GMT
Home home and away
No Ipswich kick sand in my eyes
All bastards are you
With no Stokie tattoo
We're Stoke, home and away
Home, home and away
We follow Stoke night and day
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word
We're Stoke home and away.
.
.
.
.
.
He's only a poor little scouser
his face is all battered and torn
he made me feel sick
so I hit him with a brick
and now he don't sing anymore
.
.
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Sing up all you Stokie's
so our voices can be heard
and together we will take on all the world
.
.
.
In your Liverpool slums
in your Liverpool slums
you look in the dustbins
for something to eat
you find a dead dog
and you think it's a treat
in your Liverpool slums
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Post by bostedclog on Feb 22, 2008 2:52:45 GMT
ay yay yay yay Banksie is better than Yashin Dobing is better than eusabio and manu are in for a thrashing na na na na  |
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Post by mark71 on Feb 22, 2008 3:09:43 GMT
I can remember one time we played Man ure in the 80's ( about 84ish) There was a few shit fans in the Boothen, they were soon shown the error of their ways and were run down to the bottom of the Boothen by the bogs. The police got hold of them and decided to take them into the Stoke end with the rest of the shit fans, but instead of taking them around the pitch they decided to take them through the paddock.
Once the last shit fan was in the paddock it went berserk, the police ran off and left the shit fans to fend for themselves.
Ah happy days.
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