The Flowers of Manchester Lyrics

One cold and bitter Thursday in Munich, Germany,
Eight great football stalwarts conceded victory,
Eight men will never play again who met destruction there,
The flowers of British football, the flowers of Manchester
Matt Busby's boys were flying home, returning from Belgrade,
This great United family, all masters of their trade,
The pilot of the aircraft and 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 slush upon the wings and the aircraft never rose,
It plowed into the marshy ground, it broke, it overturned.
And eight of the team were killed when the blazing aircraft 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 on too with an injury to his brain,
And Ireland's brave Jackie Blanchflower would never play again,
The great Matt Busby lay there, the father of the team
Three long months were to pass before he walked again
The trainer, coach and secretary, and a member of the crew,
And eight sporting journalists who with United flew,
And one of them was Big Swifty, we never will forget,
the finest English 'keeper that ever graced a 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.