Added at 2008-01-20 11:27:00
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The town he came from was typical England,
His mother loved him but she loved her new husband,
The teachers at school found him out a nohoper,
Just another waste of teenage strength a soldier,
Go!
Quick Friday evening, he takes a sip from the bottle,
He's with his boys again and they're up for trouble,
A pack of wolves always he better be hunting,
A local man made the mistake to confront them,
And as he sits there up alone in his room,
Cut on his knees blood on his hands, through,
A heartless attack and he's so ashamed,
Covering his eyes of the poor man's gaze,
Forever it will stay,
Set this straight, it's not your cross,
Fix yourself up bruv, and step off the warpath,
Your life is never preordained,
No two lives need ever be the same,