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A local boy returning home from many years away
In that time, he made his name in the game he lived to play.
So back home, he’s a hero who escaped from poverty
To show all the local kids that there’s a chance of breaking free.
His first time back – he’d never really wished to come before
And somehow it just shocked him that the whole place seemed so poor.
He felt that he’d forgotten the town he used to know
Something told him now he should have been back long ago.
Awkwardly, he fiddled with the money in his pocket
Glanced at his Jag, despised himself for thinking he should lock it.
Finally he headed to the place he used to play
Wondering who scored the goals on his old field today.
Before he reached the iron gate, he saw there were no teams
Buildings stood where goalposts should and concrete crushed old dreams.
In a small grey yard he saw a boy whose shirt displayed his name
Who didn’t turn to see his hero standing there in shame.
He could easily have bought the field with the money that he had
But he’d come home too late for that, this famous local lad.
Still his old neighbours proudly watch him scoring on TV
They won’t forget him; they’re made up that someone did break free.
A hero down from skinhead cut to custom-fitted boots
This boy grew up, this boy done good
This boy forgot his roots.
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