I remember I was twelve years old
Saturday morning, ten o'clock on the pitch
Hardly eaten, fear in my legs
There's so many people around
The grass still wet, my hands cold
I was relieved they let me start
Fire at my shins, but I'd give everything
There's so many people around
"What's that boy doing here?
He's not good enough"
The people on the sidelines, what do they think of me?
Do they realise how scary they can be?
They shout and complain, I feel so small
Sometimes I wish nobody looked at me
The people on the sidelines, talking about me
Should I ignore them or are they right?
They shout and complain, I feel so small
Sometimes I wish nobody looked at me
I remember I was eighteen years old
Real life is already knocking at the door
Will you study or apply for jobs
But can't I just try for a bit?
Because I can already hear them thinking
"What's that boy doing here?
He's not good enough"
The people on the sidelines, what do they think of me?
Do they realise how scary they can be?
They shout and complain, I feel so small
Sometimes I wish nobody looked at me
The people on the sidelines, talking about me
Should I ignore them or are they right?
They shout and complain, I feel so small
Sometimes I wish nobody looked at me
Suddenly you're over thirty years old
But it's still the same song
They haven't disappeared, still so many of them
Maybe someday I'll be able to handle it