Twenty Times Red

"Twenty Times Red"

Oh sing the song of Liverpool, where legends write their names,
Upon the pitch at Anfield’s heart, amid the roaring flames.
From Paisley’s reign to Jürgen’s fire, the journey bold and wide,
Now etched in gold, we count the times — twenty, side by side.

The Kop it swells with crimson pride, a thunderous, sacred sound,
As banners wave and voices rise, no stronger love is found.
From Shankly's dream to modern might, the torch was passed with grace,
Each title earned with grit and flair, a battle face to face.

We danced through years of shadowed waits, through heartache, drought, and pain,
But still we sang, “You’ll Never Walk Alone,” through wind and storm and rain.
And now the record proudly stands, a summit bold and bright,
We’ve touched the stars not once or twice — but twenty times in flight.

Each number tells a story — of Dalglish, Rush, and Barnes,
Of Gerrard's fire, of Salah's speed, of Trent's majestic arms.
The twentieth a crown of hope, a chorus long and loud,
The city red, the hearts ablaze, forever standing proud.

So raise your glass and chant the song, let every rival see:
The Reds have marched through time and tide to carve their legacy.
For now and always, ink it deep, in history’s sacred lines:
Liverpool, the mighty Reds — champions twenty times.

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