Upton Park
This one won't mean much to most people, unless they are fellow West Ham fans.
Too young to remember the café daysOf Bobby, Malcomb, Ronnie and coPepper pot defending, the salty playsThe academy of football out on show It seeped in my blood, coloured my lifeMarked deep in iron, no question markSteeled ready for rapture, sorrow and strifeAll the lights were shining from Upton Park A child of the Boleyn, born and bredFrom Southern Road a ten minute walk But we moved on out where our fates ledTo green Norfolk fields and softer talk It was then a train and a tube or two Onto Green Street where I'd feel the sparkPace quickened like my two feet knewTheir own way to the gates of Upton Park A pint in the Boleyn, chips down the road Wait by the turnstiles with a mug of tea Into the ground, oh that golden lodeWas always a special place to be But then the board plundered our soulWith empty promises built on liesTurning a profit was their only goal No world-class stadium nor world-class sides They sold off the place we held so dearOur bubbles went floating off into the darkAs we heaved out one last mournful cheerThe lights all went out at Upton Park