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