paroles de chanson Tall Poppies - Yard Act
Yeah
He
was
the
most
handsome
in
a
class
of
22
And
he
knew
it
early
on,
so
his
confidence
kept
growing
By
13,
he
had
been
with
every
girl
deemed
worth
it
To
be
within
the
village,
two
years
either
side
of
his
birthday
He
played
football,
boy,
could
he
play
He
played
every
single
day
and
he
still
does
A
scout
from
Crewe
Alexander
came
to
watch
him
once
And
they
said
that
they
were
gonna
be
in
touch
He
was
the
captain
of
the
team
without
ever
asking
to
be
And
without
ever
being
told
That
counts
for
a
lot,
still,
believe
it
or
not
Lo
and
behold,
everyone
fell
in
line
Behind
the
hair
on
his
legs
and
hair
on
his
lip
He
was
the-
He
could
smoke
ten
a
day
and
still
run
faster
Than
that
whippet
that
could
lap
the
racetrack
rabbit
He
could
dabble
in
the
snow,
rubbing
shoulders
with
the
rabble
And
still
never
ever
touch
upon
a
habit,
at
Age
16,
he
made
his
choice
to
stay
And
got
a
job
selling
houses
in
the
village
Which
by
now
had
become
such
a
desirable
place
to
settle
down
It
was
classed
not
as
a
village,
but
instead
as
a
small
town
(On
the
sunny,
sunny
side
of
the
borough)
(You
get
two
brown
bins)
Fortunately,
despite
the
influx
of
newcomers
including
for
the
first
time
A
genuine
authentic
Italian
restaurant
Run
by
a
family
of
fantastic
old
school
Neapolitans
He
was
still
the
best
at
football
and
the
most
handsome
man
Taking
solace
in
that
fact,
as
his
little
world
continued
To
expand,
woo
By
the
time
he
was
20
He'd
now
been
with
all
the
girls
deemed
worth
it
in
the
village
Five
years
either
side
of
his
birthday
But
it
was
time
to
settle
down
and
no
kiss
had
ever
felt
so
electric
As
the
first,
he'd
ever
felt
all
those
years
ago
Though,
she'd
never
strayed
far,
hemmed
in
by
his
shadow
The
torches
lining
the
path
of
her
own
dreams
Had
been
growing
dimmer
by
the
day
and
so
Faster
than
a
dying
star,
she
cashed
in
her
chips
and
checked
out
Settled
for
him
and
subsequently
threw
all
her
own
ambitions
away
A
promotion
followed,
a
mortgage,
a
marriage
A
dog
and
children,
a
loft
conversion
A
dead
dog,
and
a
second
home
on
the
Costa
del
Sol
In
the
hopes
of
stoking
the
coals
of
two
long
lost
souls
Which
comes
first,
counselling
or
keys
in
the
bowl?
Put
his
own
mother
in
a
home
Got
made
redundant
twice,
never
once
was
he
on
the
dole
A
light
head,
black
spots
on
his
vision,
room
spinning
Clutching
the
curtain,
waving
from
the
window,
they
thought
he
was
grinning
He
was
grimacing,
begging
them
to
notice
him,
twitching,
notice
no
one
is
helping
him
The
grandkids
waving
through
the
rear
windshield
As
the
big
electric
gate
draws
a
line
in
between
them
A
fine,
fine
line
between
benign
and
malignant
So
get
yourself
checked,
book
yourself
an
appointment
So
get
yourself
checked,
book
yourself
an
appointment
So
get
yourself
checked,
book
yourself
an
appointment
So
get
yourself
checked,
book
yourself
The
whole
village
and
most
of
the
town
came
out
to
mourn
his
end
A
full
house,
he
would've
been
so
proud
Knowing
that
no
one
said
a
bad
word
about
him
aloud
He
wasn't
perfect,
but
he
was
my
friend
He
wasn't
perfect,
but
he
was
one
of
us
He
was
one
of
us
A
plaque
bears
his
full
name
on
a
bench
by
the
water's
edge
The
dates
he
came
and
went
And
a
quote
about
life
and
death
from
a
song
he'd
never
heard
'Cause
he
wasn't
too
fond
of
long
songs
with
lots
of
words
If
I
were
him,
I'd
have
never
left
the
village
either
But
I
did,
and
I
know
full
well
That
there
are
more
handsome
men
And
better
footballers
out
there
in
Greater
Manchester
They
would've
cut
him
down
to
size
if
they
could've
But
what
good
would
that
do?
He
bloomed
and
he
grew
and
grew,
and
still,
he
was
doomed
Same
as
me,
same
as
you
Same
as
everyone
I
ever
knew
You,
sometimes
still,
I
think
about
you
Out
there,
somewhere,
floating
in
the
ether
Born
dyed
in
the
wool,
never
knowing
of
a
belly
half
full
So
many
of
us
are
just
crabs
in
a
barrel
With
no
feasible
means
to
escape
the
inevitable
cull
There
are
those
that
grow
thick
skins
quick
for
the
sake
of
their
sins
And
the
savvy
folk
that
just
keep
their
mouths
shut
and
take
it
all
on
the
chin
We
collide
with
each
other,
we
submit,
we
bare
our
teeth
Catch
fish
using
giant
metal
ships
and
scream
with
laughter
At
4 a.m
staggering
home
down
moonlit
country
lanes
We
cry
because
children
are
dying
across
the
sea
And
there
is
nothing
we
can
do
about
it
Whilst
we
benefit
from
the
bombs
dropped
which
we
had
no
part
in
building
We
are
sorry,
truly
we
are
sorry,
we
are
just
trying
to
get
by
too
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