I stood in a busy car park,
My empty heart in pain
All these ignorant people,
Trod over this massive grave.

Unaware of what has gone before,
The tales this space could tell,
The ghosts of mighty heroes
Of ended dreams as well.

How many collective memories
Were torn down that fateful day,
That the cranes and bulldozers came,
And took our home away.

The day we beat the Arsenal,
When Cymru beat 'The Sais'
When we queued in freezing weather
On that cold wet February night.

I tied my beloved Wrexham scarf,
To the back of the huge car wash.
And entered the new rotatin' doors
That replaced the turnstiled Kop.

There was still a great PGS Stand
But it was now plums, grapes, and swedes
And the only Pryce that mattered
Was the price of frozen peas.

Dibbs was in the butcher's
Between two joints of beef,
And standing just behind him
Was Whitfield his relief.

Carlos and Paul served chicken wings,
With such amazing pace,
As Carey, Pej and Roberts
Defend the reduced bread race.

Whitley, Thomas and Fergie,
Were simply shelf stackers.
And lined up where the till girls sit,
Now stood our great attackers.

Armstrong scanned my chicken pie
And pass it out to Llew
Who looked at me and smiled and said,
'If you like I'll pack for you.'

'That's £2.50 for one meat pie'
This can't be what it seems
I'd fell asleep in a home bore draw
It had all been just a dream.