Brother Walfrid - The Glasgow Irish Saviour
Poverty dressed our hearts and souls
While ignorant mouth cursed and swore,
Our faith we treasured, for every night we would pray
For God to take us home, to Ireland one day.
Being Irish & Catholic, we faced a cultural alienation
As we fled Britain to escape, the potatoe blight & famine,
Our husbands and sons toiled the hardships
That work was not available for the Irish immigrant.
Our children ate, at the Penny Dinner Tables
Were the East End Parishes would provide hot meals,
We were victimized for our nationality, religion and politics,
Our heritage & culture were denounced by the Presbyterian Church.
For, it was through Brother Walfrid’s enthusiasm and vision
That he provided for every exiled Irishman,
A team called Celtic, were Celtic Park was home,
Were we could wear our colours, fly our flags and sing songs.