The Field (Casualties of Cool)

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