I sit upon the gate to our old school playground,
It's raining, but I know the tree to my left will provide shelter,
I've been here before.
I can still see you sitting on the railings,
Telling everyone we kissed,
That was a long time ago.
But here's the same conversation,
So why am I not involved?
I kick my feet upon the bar below me, and splash muddy rain everywhere,
I used to always get the bottoms of my trousers wet because of that,
I'll never learn.
It's raining a little more now, and the tree only shades so much,
But I don't wanna go.
I want to know why you're stood out in the rain,
With all my friends,
Why they're not with me,
You never really got along with them,
I'm confused.
They all look so upset,
Their faces, almost expressionless in the cold.
We always, always used to be happy,
We were known for smiling almost all the time,
It was one hell of a shock to see one of us cry.
So why is everybody crying?
It's raining fiercefully now, but I'm not leaving until you all go inside,
A bell rings to call a "wet dinner break" but none of you move.
You stand or sit, holding each other,
Lifting the collars of your black coats.
That's when I realise this isn't the school playground.
Ours didn't have a lawn, ours was tarmack,
But here, it's all grass, and there's a tonne of bushes,
And roses, everywhere, I love roses, but that's beside the point.
Still, you're all standing there, in the rain,
Everything seem's faded, and grey.
Then it hits me, that that wasn't the dinner bell, it was the sound of a church,
And I recognise this grave yard,
I've been here before.
