(To the tune of The Sash My Father Wore)
It was back in nineteen-sixty-five On the very first day of May. Me Dad sang and danced for the lads in Red as he walked down Wembley Way. Ian St. John scored the goal that won The Cup we'd never won before. And as his son I love to wear The scarf my father wore. It is old but it is beautiful And its colours they are fine It was worn in Paris Wemberly In Rome and on the Rhine My father wore it as a youth In the bygone days of yore And as his son I love to wear The scarf my father wore.