It was on Kerrydale Street that I did meet
A pretty young girl from Dublin Town,
This Irish colleen was dressed in green
She was in Glasgow to visit the Holy Ground.
I asked her, her name before the start of the game
As we both entered through Parkhead’s turnstiles,
Her name was Shannon, like the river in Ireland,
As I shook her hand and gave her a smile.
In the Jock Stein Stand, all the Celtic fans
Stood to applaud the Celts onto the park,
I looked for Shannon as she cheered on Neil Lennon,
As her Celtic shirt had Lennon 18 on the back.
When the game was done and the Celtic had won
I walked her up Janefield Street back into the city centre,
And we went for a jar at a local Celtic bar,
Mines was a Guinness as she drank a pint of cider.
We drank all night wearing our green & white
For the next morning she was returning home to Dublin,
She scribbled her home number on my cigarette packet
As she boarded a bus leaving Buchanan Street bus station.
For the rest of the season she would travel over from Dublin
Outside the Brazen Head pub we would meet,
And now, my bags are packed, with 200 fags,
As I am marrying Shannon, in Dublin next week.
Sept’12th 2005