I wasn't born, when the Busby babes played,
I wasn't born, when they went to Belgrade.
I'll never know the feeling, of hearing that news as it broke,
I'll never know what it's like, to walk through Manchester without a word being spoke.
I only know the stories I have been told,
Memories that have grown old.
A team, that in Munich died,
Right across the country, tears were cried.
Byrne, Jones, Edwards, Taylor, Colman, Whelan, Pegg and Bent,
Playing in a style, that was heaven sent.
The great Frank Swift, 7 journalists and 4 members of the crew,
Crickmer, Whalley and Curry perished too,
But it's the boys, destined to rule football,
That we think about today, for victory they gave their all.
Sir Matt lay in a hospital bed, not knowing his boys fate,
He wasn't told the truth, the risk too great.
'Keep the flag flying Jimmy', he said with a sigh.
And that's what he did, because Manchester United will never die.
R.I.P. The Busby Babes