from the graveyard to paradise, from the moment people started working for the cause to build the dream, you have always stood for celtic and you have always stood for me. you have survived storms, fires and the supports desires, from ambition to cinder tracks, cycle tracks, pavilions, drench-lights hunting wolves, a jungle refurbished, a 70’s stand, new clothes for your birthday and fergus mccanns plans.
thankfully you survived cambuslang.
standing on gravel, a crumbling terracing, with weeds poking through, seeing the game for free, no roofs or leaking roofs, flickering toilet lights, cold plastic seats surrounded by breeze-block grey, a cathedral of noise, passion, love, is the warmth to our paradise, the soul of the celtic way. your decoration has an eye to the past, your shape has changed, generations have attended, but you have remained the same. you have always stood for celtic and you have always stood for me.