A grey Tuesday morning, 'neath Lancastrian skies
We wake once again to wipe tears from our eyes.
Forced to wear robes of weakness and pity,
As cowards attack the very heart of our city.
Like always we'll comfort and hold one another,
A Mancunian family of sisters and brothers.
For a time our strut is reduced to a stagger,
But make no mistake, we'll rekindle our swagger.
We'll learn how to live with another deep scar.
If you think you can beat us, you don't know who we are!
We're Collyhurst, Ancoats, Moston and Sale.
We're Oldham and Bury; Ashton; Rochdale.
We're Pankhurst and Turing, the Gallagher Brothers,
We're Morrissey, Marr and a million others!
We're a city of workers, a city of shirkers.
A city of tracksuits, and bibles and burkas.
Vegetarian, Rastafarian, Atheist, Jew.
100% red! 100% blue!
We're each of us different but never alone.
In the Cosmopolitopia we get to call 'home'.
So, come at us again, and again if you must.
Time after time we'll rise from the dust.
You'll never prevail - not against us...
This is Manchester, our Manchester,
And the bees still buzz!
Poem as read by Liam Fray at the Courteeners gig last night (written by a friend of his apparently).