Well, when Peter Pullen turned thirteen He threw a party in Partington for the whole team And it was him and me, Jono Steadman, Connor Cartwright And Doug Duggan with Peter's cousin Dean Do you remember Dean?
We wandered off into the woods Behind the park with Dean's older brother Mark Some cherry cola can bongs down by the stream I wore these beige chinos Swore they were just cream jeans Their red eyes chuckling When suddenly Jono screamed Ow
Pellet in his leg A couple more shots whizzed past, felt fast Probably not Just the shock of the shots So we ducked behind the rocks
We crawled through the dead leaves and the moss Up the path and ran all the way back We didn't let up until we got past the bus stop near Joanna's house Bill popped that pellet out with a hot box-cutter And Jono didn't cry at all, he didn't even stutter, yeah
Jono was alright, Jono was a good guy I think his dad came over from somewhere else or summat Sometime in '85 or '86 Or maybe he was from Milton Keynes I can't really remember But he was different to ours And Jono had been deaf till he was four 'Cause he had this weird wax buildup in his ears
So he spoke a little slow and I was a prick about it And picked on him And bullied him before he found his feet here 'Cause 'Cause Well, don't know why But I did and I've gotta live with it Maybe it was just kids being kids Or maybe it was just my inner ape baring its teeth
But I got picked on too I might've been a prick, sure, but I was just insecure And who gets to decide what's being snide And what's just giving you what you're good for?
We were all good in the end though, I think He never held it against me We ended up on a school trip to Blackpool when we hit sixteen Sharing cheap pills that weren't too strong But lasted long enough to take the edge off life getting real And draw the curtains on life feeling just that little bit
The sharks start circling And the nights get longer Jono, I never said sorry to your face so I'll say it in this song I was young, but moreso, I was wrong And I swear down If I found out my own son had been picking on someone Well, when he came home from school I'd grab that little fucker by his rucksack Pin him up to the wall and scream in his face Until he'd never dare make another person feel shitty at all 'Cause they picked on me too, so I know, same as you That the pain never really goes away It just finds new places to hide inside the darkest nooks and crannies of your brain Again and again It surprises you every time you find it The old cycle of abuse He did it to me, so I'll do it to you And it don't matter if you're tough as old boots There's no margin for error in this world There's absolutely no excuse
Though the very fibres of our being are frayed to the point of exhaustion for a bit of harmless fun Jesus Christ, I never meant to hurt anyone
And I was trouble too I was lost I lived under a storm cloud When I was just a boy like you
Compositores: James Anthony Smith (James Smith), Samuel Laurence Shipstone (Samuel Shipstone), Ryan Andrew Needham (Ryan Needham), Jay Joseph Russell (Jay Russell), Christopher Duffin ECAD: Obra #45385425