The gate through which we ran
Past nettles and unkept grass
Clatters against cracked paving stone, tumbling on,
our land to roam
The tree in which we sat
Our neighbours kind, the summer early
The shouts in which we cast
Our love for each maiden journey
The fields in which we claimed
The light to be our own
Conquered worlds, wooden swords
A stones throw from our home
Leeking laughter, screeching names
Arms outstretched, fighter planes
A ball that won't believe its place
Belongs between two posts
Its getting cold, the mud is slow
But joy will not be lost
Frozen time that lives but still
As a memory just begun
A mustard coloured jumper
A father, a son and son
Past nettles and unkept grass
Clatters against cracked paving stone, tumbling on,
our land to roam
The tree in which we sat
Our neighbours kind, the summer early
The shouts in which we cast
Our love for each maiden journey
The fields in which we claimed
The light to be our own
Conquered worlds, wooden swords
A stones throw from our home
Leeking laughter, screeching names
Arms outstretched, fighter planes
A ball that won't believe its place
Belongs between two posts
Its getting cold, the mud is slow
But joy will not be lost
Frozen time that lives but still
As a memory just begun
A mustard coloured jumper
A father, a son and son