The Field

Young boy on the sun

The game has begun

Feel that the pressure is on

The outcome is dear

From the addle? to here

Run, run, hustle, and run

And if he falls

God help us all

The bend? is opening there?

We’re all just kids

Trying to belong

Out for a breathe of fresh air

The fields are uneven

The players still small

The ball goes right over our heads

Me I’m in the background

Playing with daisies

Dreaming of days

Spent in bed

We’re all just kids

Walking it off

As we run, run, hustle, and fall

There he spends the whole ride home crying

Their hands are frozen through to the bone

Me In the backseat watching the world pass me

Playing with the tube? in the dust

But we’re all just kids

Making a mess

As we run, run, hustle and fall

Oh we fall