Song parody of
You Live / No One Like You
by For Those I Love
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You live in A Lazarus Soul
In the Dubliners' songs of old
And the Pogues
The art that never grows old
You Live in
Fireworks at the prefabs
Cash for hash,
And give it a lash jack,
Footballs off the pebbledash
I hear ya when I'm locked,
Poems of the dualshock,
Lock stock, and hot rocks,
Round the block
Never stop
I see ya still,
Wild in every field,
Try and send ya photos of
Every stray mattress I see,
Ask what could've been
Cause you live in
Christy Moore,
George Moore,
Catch Me Daddy English Moors,
And broken doors,
You live in Keats,
The Liffey littered with Grogan's seats,
And Disorder by Joy Division forever on repeat,
You live in the books of John B Keane,
How Mick Phelan leads,
And Petey playing Vanessa Carlton on the keys.
I see ya in every 20 quid haircut,
and Billy strut from lads stuck in a rut,
But we get by.
You're all that's on my mind,
When pints in the Killer or the Flowing Tide,
The other lads at my side on the same vibe.
------
You live in every twist and turn at Shels,
Alan Byrne head the ball
And all the glory and hell,
And at times we win as well.
Still sit in your spot at the New Stand,
Watch the young ultras throw cans
And get banned,
Beside old men smoking subpar soapbar hash,
As we look out onto the field
Where we laid your ash.
You live in Zoe's love for Coolock and Kilmore,
You live in Gav White's joy every time we score,
You live in every skin fade Barry does in your name,
and every word Doyler speaks on stage.
You live in Dean Delayney,
Burbock, Adam Evans,
In the beautiful game's best starting 11,
You live in Robbie Lyons,
And all the love and light that shines,
You live in Wes, Ross, Gilly, Rob, and Sam,
In the voice of Gav, and James and Pam.
You live wild in my memory,
In every burst of ecstatic energy, rushin in waves,
Still live in the videos of The Blaze,
Still live in warehouse raves,
Mike Skinner early days,
Turn The Page.
You live in the flames that rage
And fight the pain
And you live in a love that will never fade.
You live in A Lazarus Soul
In the Dubliners' songs of old
And the Pogues
The art that never grows old
You Live in
Fireworks at the prefabs
Cash for hash,
And give it a lash jack,
Footballs off the pebbledash
I hear ya when I'm locked,
Poems of the dualshock,
Lock stock, and hot rocks,
Round the block
Never stop
I see ya still,
Wild in every field,
Try and send ya photos of
Every stray mattress I see,
Ask what could've been
Cause you live in
Christy Moore,
George Moore,
Catch Me Daddy English Moors,
And broken doors,
You live in Keats,
The Liffey littered with Grogan's seats,
And Disorder by Joy Division forever on repeat,
You live in the books of John B Keane,
How Mick Phelan leads,
And Petey playing Vanessa Carlton on the keys.
I see ya in every 20 quid haircut,
and Billy strut from lads stuck in a rut,
But we get by.
You're all that's on my mind,
When pints in the Killer or the Flowing Tide,
The other lads at my side on the same vibe.
------
You live in every twist and turn at Shels,
Alan Byrne head the ball
And all the glory and hell,
And at times we win as well.
Still sit in your spot at the New Stand,
Watch the young ultras throw cans
And get banned,
Beside old men smoking subpar soapbar hash,
As we look out onto the field
Where we laid your ash.
You live in Zoe's love for Coolock and Kilmore,
You live in Gav White's joy every time we score,
You live in every skin fade Barry does in your name,
and every word Doyler speaks on stage.
You live in Dean Delayney,
Burbock, Adam Evans,
In the beautiful game's best starting 11,
You live in Robbie Lyons,
And all the love and light that shines,
You live in Wes, Ross, Gilly, Rob, and Sam,
In the voice of Gav, and James and Pam.
You live wild in my memory,
In every burst of ecstatic energy, rushin in waves,
Still live in the videos of The Blaze,
Still live in warehouse raves,
Mike Skinner early days,
Turn The Page.
You live in the flames that rage
And fight the pain
And you live in a love that will never fade.
