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The reason we’re called Manchester, and I hope this don’t sound crude,
Is because the Roman warriors settled at a hill shaped like a boob,
When General Agricola marched from Chester up to York,
He needed somewhere safe to rest, to eat his tea and talk,
Perfect in its curvature, like every man’s best friend,
The curving slope in Castlefield was the easiest to defend,
The breast shaped hill was perfect; it’s where our town grew from,
And the Roman word to sum it up was Mamucium,
The first part of this word translates as ‘shaped just like a breast,’
The second part means camp or site, somewhere for them to rest.

Now even though our rivals may gleefully pour scorn,
It was due to this comparison that our boob shaped town was born,
The Saxons came in Century five and changed the name again,
Calling us Manigceastre but still focussed on the M,
Invasions came each century from Northumbria and the Danes,
With Mamecaestre and Manceastre evolving as our names,
So if you’ve ever wondered why we’re all called Manc,
Women’s boobs and roman hills, we’ve got them both to thank,
And if anybody says to you that you look a right teet,
Explain to them your heritage and say ta for seeing it.


Copyright©2011 by Phil Martin

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