SÅNGER
Celtics sånger har en mångfald av olika syften och betydelser, några handlar om fotbollslaget medan andra handlar om en lång och utdragen frihetskamp. På något sätt smälter allt samman, vare sig det gäller Celtic eller Irland har samtliga inblandade möjligheten att på fredlig väg enas och tillsammans sjunga melodier och hymner på Celtic Park.
Det är få lag i Europa som har den mångåriga traditionen och historien av sånger som Celtic har, det kan sträcka sig tillbaka till urgamla irländska folkmelodier men också till moderna Celtichymner. Att hålla på Celtic innebär inte att man endast tillber ett fotbollslag, utan att man tillhör en helt fantastisk kultur med sång och härlig dans. Därför presenteras några av våra mest kända låtar, med texter och klipp som ni kan njuta av dels för att till viss mån kunna känna av hur stämningen kan vara på ett utsålt Celtic Park men likväl också på en fullpackad liten mysig pub.
Celtic är en livsstil!
The Celtic Song
Den härliga melodin som spelas när spelarna springer in på Celtic Park som låter så här
Lyssna här
Hail Hail, The Celts are here, What the hell do we care,
What the hell do we care, Hail Hail, The Celts are here,
What the hell do we care now ...For its a Grand Old Team to play for,
For its a Grand Old team to see, And if you know the history,
Its enough to make your heart go, Nine-in-a-row.
We don't care what the animals say, What the hell do we care,
For its all we know, Is that there going to be a show,
And the Glasgow Celtic will be there.
You'll Never Walk Alone
Kanske den allra kändaste fotbollslåten , som flera lag i Europa sjunger men vi på redaktionen tycker självklart att Celtic supportrarna sjunger den bäst!
Lyssna här
When you walk through a storm, Hold your head up high,
And don't be afraid of the dark, At the end of a storm, there's a golden sky,
And the sweet silver song of a lark. Walk on through the wind,
Walk on through the rain, Though your dreams be tossed and blown...
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart, And you'll never walk alone,
You'll never walk alone...Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart,
And you'll never walk alone, You'll never walk alone...
The Fields of Athenry
Fields of Athenry är en riktig klassiker som bland annat The Dubliners sjunger utmärkt. En sorglig historia om den stora missväxten och potatispesten som drabbade Irland i mitten av 1800-talet, när över en miljon irländare dog och de engelska kolonialherrarna ändå fortsatte att exportera livsmedel till England som om inget hänt.
Lyssna här
På läktaren: Lyssna här
Det kända Celticbandet, Charlie and the Bhoys var i Sverige, rättare sagt Västerås våren 2009:
Lyssna här
By lonely prison wall, I heard a young girl calling
Michael they are taking you away, For you stole Trevaillians corn
So your young might see the morn It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry
Lo lie the Fields of Athenry, Where once we watched the small free birds fly
Our love was on the wing, We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry, By lonely prison wall I heard a young man calling
Nothing matters Mary when you're free, Against the famine and the crown
I rebelled, they cut me down, Now you must raise our child with dignity.
By lonely harbour wall, she watched the last hour falling
As the prison-ship sailed out against the sky, But she'll live and hope and pray
For her love in Botany Bay, It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry
Celtic Symphony
En riktig favorit, fruktansvärt populär i Celtic kretsar, inte lika popular bland Rangers. Låten framförs av det legendariska bandet Wolfe Tones, låten får dock inte spelas på Celtic Park på grund av de sekteristiska antydningarna som finns i texten. Det hindrar dock inte supportrarna från att sjunga den, och trots allt så är det en riktigt bra låt.
Lyssna här
Lyssna här
It was far across the sea, When the devil got a hold of me,
He wouldnt set me free, So he kept me soul for ransom.
na na na na na na na na na
na na na na na na na na.
I'm a sailor man from Glasgow town, I've roamed this world round and round,
Hes the meanest thing that I have found,In all mydays of wander.
But I could see his evil eyes, Twas then he took me by surprise,
Take me to your paradise, I want to see the Jungle.
Here we go again, We're on the road again,
We're on the road again, We're on our way to Paradise,
We love the jungilty, That's where the lion sleeps, (yeeeaaaaahhhh)
For in those evil eyes, They have no place in Paradise.
Grafitti on the walls just as the sun was going down,
I seen graffitti on the walls( Of the CELTS, Of the CELTS),
Graffitti on the walls that says we're Magic, We're Magic,
Graffiti on the walls.......Graffiti on the walls........
And it said..............Ooh ah up the Ra, say ooh ah up the Ra (x6).
We went to each jungle deep, For the Paradise that we did seek,
Was noted for the weak, There was some with the natives.
From the Amazon to Borneo, From Africa to Tokyo,
To the darkest jungles of the world, But nowhere could i lose him.
Around in circles every way, He turned to me and he did say,
I think your leading me astary, I want your soul me boyo!
Let The People Sing
LTPS innehåll är stark, och sjungs oftast med mycket mer omsorg och tanke än många andra låtar.
Lyssna här
Lyssna här
For those who are in love, There's a song that's warm and tender.
For those who are oppressed, In song you can protest.
So liberate your minds, And give your soul expression.
Open up your hearts, I'll sing for you this song.
Let the people sing their stories and their songs, And the music of their native land
Their lullabies and battlecries and songs of hope and joy, So join us hand in hand
All across this ancient land, Throughout the test of time
It was music that kept their spirits free, Those songs of yours and of mine
It was back in ancient times, The bard would tell his stories
Of the heroes, of the villain, Of the chieftains in the glen.
Through Elizabethian time And Cromwellian war and fury
Put our pipers to the sword, Killed our harpers and our bards.
Let the people sing their stories and their songs, And the music of their native land
Their lullabies and battlecries and songs of hope and joy, So join us hand in hand
All across this ancient land, Throughout the test of time
It was music that kept their spirits free, Those songs of yours and of mine
Ireland, land of song, Your music lives forever
In its valleys, in its mountains, In its hills and in its glens.
Our music did survive, Through famine and oppression.
To the generations gone, I'll sing for you this song.
Willie Maley
Willie Maley var Celtics manager under inte mindre än 43 år - från 1897 till 1940. Under denna epok vann Celtic 30 titlar.
Lyssna här
Lyssna här
Oh Willie Maley was his name,
He brought some great names to the game,
When he was the boss at Celtic Park.
Taught them how to play football,
He made the greatest of them all,
Gallagher and Quinn have left their mark.
Refräng:
And they gave us James McGrory and Paul McStay,
They gave us Johnstone, Tully, Murdoch, Auld and Hay,
And most of the football greats,
Have passed through Parkhead's gates,
All to play football the Glasgow Celtic way.
We Shall Not Be Moved
En av de mäktigare läktarsångerna, som oftast skanderas vid mäktiga tillfällen.
På länken kan ni se och höra ca 40 000 Celtic supportrar skrika ut "We Shall Not Be Moved", kan sägas att de få portosupportrar som var där inte hördes ett smack under hela matchen. Uppskattningsvis var det över 100 000 Celtic supportrar i Sevilla, denna uefa cup final 2003.
Lyssna här
We shall not, we shall not be moved,
We shall not, we shall not be moved.
Not by the Hearts, the Hibs or the Rangers,
We shall not be moved.
This Land Is Your Land
Lyssna här
This land is your land, this land is my land
From the northern highlands to the western islands
From the hills of Kerry to the streets of (Free) Derry
This land was made for you and me
As I was walking by the Shannon water
Hand in hand with my little daughter
The church bells ringing, and the children singing
This land was made for you and me
Refräng
So I walked her home by the old church steeple
Proud of my country, proud of my people
Of the men who tried there, of the men who died there singing
This land is made for you and me
Refräng
Then I climbed a mountain, saw the crystal fountain
And heard a great roar from the rocky sea shore
Her eyes were gleaming, she cried oho Daddy
This land was made for you and me.
We Love You
Lyssna här
We love you, we love you, we love you
And where you go we follow, we follow, we follow,
Cause we support the Celtic, the Celtic, the Celtic,
And that's the way we like it, we like it, we like it
OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO.
You Are My Larsson
Hyllningssång till den största utländska spelaren i Celtic, Henrik Larsson kommer sannerligen aldrig bli glömd på Celtic Park. Han kallas som bekant "The Ghod" bland Celtics supportrar.
Lyssna här
You are my Larsson, My Henrik Larsson,
You make me happy, when the skies are grey,
We went for Shearer, But hes a w*nker,
So please don't take my Larsson away...
Over And Over
Lyssna här
Oh! over and over, we will follow you,
Over and over, we will see you through,
We're Celtic supporters, faithful through and through,
And over and over, we will follow you.
If you go to Germany, you will see us there,
France or Spain its all the same, We'll go anywhere,
We'll be there to cheer you, As you travel round,
You can take us anywhere, we won't let you down.
Refräng
If you go to Lisbon, we'll go once again,
In Zaire you'll find us there calling out your name,
When you need supporting, you will always know,
We'll be right there with you, every where you go.
Refräng.
Soldiers Song
Irländska nationalsången sjungs ofta med stolthet. Oftast med engelsk version.
Lyssna här
Soldiers are we
whose lives are pledged to Ireland
Some have come
from a land beyond the wave
Sworn to be free
No more our ancient sire land
Shall shelter the despot or the slave
Tonight we man the bhearna baoil
for erin´s cause (GOD BLESS THE POPE)
We´ll chant a song, a soldiers song
We´ll chant a soldiers song, All togheter now!!
Back Home In Derry
En personlig favorit, och när man hör låten stannar tiden verkligen upp och tankarna far till Nordirland och Derry.
Lyssna här
In 1803 we sailed out to sea, Out from the sweet town of Derry
For Australia bound if we didn't all drown, And the marks of our fetters we carried.
In the rusty iron chains we sighed for our wains, As our good wives we left in sorrow.
As the mainsails unfurled our curses we hurled, On the English and thoughts of tomorrow.
Oh Oh Oh Oh I wish I was back home in Derry.
Oh Oh Oh Oh I wish I was back home in Derry.
I cursed them to hell as our bow fought the swell, Our ship danced like a moth in the firelights.
White horses rode high as the devil passed by, Taking souls to Hades by twilight.
Five weeks out to sea we were now forty-three, Our comrades we buried each morning.
In our own slime we were lost in a time, Endless night without dawning.
Oh Oh Oh Oh I wish I was back home in Derry.
Oh Oh Oh Oh I wish I was back home in Derry.
Van Dieman's land is a hell for a man, To live out his life in slavery.
When the climate is raw and the gun makes the law, Neither wind nor rain cares for bravery.
Twenty years have gone by and I've ended me bond, And comrades' ghosts are behind me.
A rebel I came and I'll die the same, On the cold winds of night you will find me.
Four Leaf Clover
Lyssna här
With a four leaf clover on my breast,
And the green and white upon my chest,
It's such a joy for us to see,
For they play football the Celtic way.
It's been ten years, long time indeed,
We stood with pride and we took defeat,
Our beloved team, our ancient ground,
Has been rebuilt, a club reborn.
McCann he rode the winds of change,
And the things he brought will long remain,
A phoenix rising, a house of steel,
And 60,000 Celtic dreams.
The work is done and the stage is set,
The Celtic dream can now be met,
In a sea of dreams, we're here today,
Lets sit and watch the Champions play.
Artur Boruc Song
Lyssna här
Ohhhhh Artur Boruc,
The Holy Goalie,
He hates the huns!!
He blessed himself at Ibrox and the Huns went off their nut,
he's off his fecking rocket and sings:
GOD BLESS THE POPE!
Glasgow Celtic Champions
Lyssna här
Glasgow Celtic champions
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh,
Glasgow Celtic champions,
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh,
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh,
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh,
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh,
Oh oh oh,
Glasgow Celtic champions...
We´re On The One Road
Lyssna här
We're on the one road , sharing the one load
we're on the road to god knows where
we're on the one road , it maybe the wrong road
but we're together now who cares
northman southman comrades all
Dublin Belfast Cork and Donegal
we're on the one road , swinging along
singing a soldiers song.
Hampden In The Sun
Lyssna här
Oh Hampden in the Sun,
Celtic 7 Rangers 1,
That was the score when it came time up, T
he Timalloys had won the cup.
I see Tully running down the line,
He slips the ball past Valentine,
It's nodded down by 'Teazy Weazy',
And Sammy Wilson makes it look so easy.
I see Mochan beating Shearer,
The League Cup is coming nearer.
He slams in an impossible shot,
The Rangers team has had their lot.
Over comes a very high ball,
Up goes McPhail above them all,
The ball and Billy's head have met,
A lovely sight the ball is in the net.
Young Sam Wilson has them rocked,
but unluckily his shot was blocked,
Then big Bill with a lovely lob,
Makes it look such an easy job.
Now here is Mochan on the ball,
He runs around poor Ian McColl,
Wee George Niven takes a daring dive,
But Smiler Mochan makes it number five.
Down the middle runs Billy McPhail,
With John Valentine on his tail,
With a shot along the ground,
The cup's at Parkhead safe and sound.
Here comes Fernie, cool and slick,
He ambles up to take the kick,
He hits it hard and low past Niven,
The Tims are in their Seventh Heaven.
Celtic, Celtic Thats The Team
Lyssna här
Celtic, Celtic thats the team for me,
Celtic, Celtic on to victory,
They're the finest team in Scotland, I'm sure you will agree,
We'll never give up till we've won the cup and the scottish football league.
They come from bonnie Scotland, they come from county Cork,
They come from dear old Donegal and even from New York,
From every street in Glasgow they proudly make their way,
To a place called dear old paradise and this is what they say.
There's Fallon, Young and Gemmel who proudly wear the green,
There's Clark, McNeill and Kennedy the best there;s ever been,
Jim Johnstone, Murdoch, Chalmers, John Divers and John Hughes,
And sixty thousand Celtic fans who proudly shout the news.
The Coronation Cup
Lyssna här
Said Lizzie to Phillip as they sat down to dine,
I've just had a note from an old friend of mine,
His name is 'Big Geordie' he's loyal and true,
And his dirty big nose is a light shade of blue.
He says that the Rangers are right on their game,
And ask for a trophy to add to their fame,
I'll send up a cup that the Rangers can win,
Said Phillip to Liz watch the Celts don't step in.
Said Lizzie to Phillip they don't stand a chance,
I'll send up my Gunners to lead them a dance,
With Celtic defeated the way will be clear,
A cup for the Rangers in my crowning year.
But alas for their hopes for the loyal true blues,
The Celts beat the Gunners and Manchester too,
Beat Hibs in the final and oh what a scene,
Sure Hampden was covered in banners of green.
Said Lizzie to Phillip when she heard the grim news,
A blow has been struck at our loyal true blues,
Oh tell me dear Phillip and you ought to know,
How to keep Glasgow Celtic defeated below.
Said Phillip to Lizzie there's only one way,
I've known of their secret for many a day,
To keep the Celts down you will have to deport,
The whole Fenian army that gives them support.
Celtic Is The Name
Lyssna här
In Glasgow town we have a team and Celtic is the name
We've beaten Rangers and Milan for Celtic know the game
And if you don't believe me boys then come and see us play
For Glasgow Celtic, up the Celtic, beats the World today
We are a famous football team I'm sure you all agree
We've played them all, the big and small, from Lisbon to Dundee
And if you don't believe me boys then this to you I say
Come up the Parkhead, dear old Parkhead, Celtic leads the way
Come up the Parkhead, dear old Parkhead, Celtic leads the way
In Glasgow town we have a team and Celtic is the name
We've beaten Rangers and Milan for Celtic know the game
And if you don't believe me boys then come and see us play
For Glasgow Celtic, up the Celtic, beats the World today
For Glasgow Celtic, up the Celtic, beats the World today.
The East End Of Town
Lyssna här
At the East End of Town, a big Stadium stands,
It’s called Paradise by all the Celtic fans.
One hundred years have passed and still going strong,
The great Glasgow Celtic forever will live on,
And little boys play in the city streets dream,
Of the day they will play in the Glasgow Celtic team.
The fans on the slopes are a sight to behold,
Bold fenian men in their green white and gold,
Cheering on their heroes with every game won,
Lifting up the cup when they’ve stuck it to the huns.
In the East end streets they cheered with pride,
And welcomed home their victorious side,
They were the first to win the European Cup,
I was there in sunny Lisbon when they proudly held it up.
At the East End of Town, a big Stadium stands,
It’s called Paradise by all the Celtic fans.
One hundred years have pasted and still going strong,
The great Glasgow Celtic forever will live on,
And little boys play in the city streets dream,
Of the day they will play in the Glasgow Celtic team.
At the East End of Town, a big Stadium stands,
It’s called Paradise by all the Celtic fans
Sean South from Garryowen
Lyssna här
T'was on a dreary New Years Eve
As the shades of night came down
A lorry load of volunteers approached the border town
There were men from Dublin and from Cork, Fermanagh and Tyrone
And the leader was a Limerick man - Sean South from Garryowen
As they moved along the street up to the barracks door
They scorned the danger they might face
Their fate taht lay instore
They were fighting for old Ireland to clim their very own
And the foremost of that gallant band
Was South from Garryowen
But the seargent spied their daring plan
He spied them trough the door
The Sten guns and the rifles a hail of death did pour
And when that awful night had passed
Two men lay cold a s stone
There was one from near the border twn and one from Garryowen
No more wil he hear the seagull's cry
Over the murmurring Shannon tide
For he fell beneath a Northern sky brave Hanlon by his side
They have gone to join that gallant band
Of Plunkett, Pearse and Tone
A martyr for old Ireland
Sean South from Garryowen
