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He was seven and I was six, my Brendon Gallacher.He was Irish and I was Scottish, my Brendon Gallacher.His father was in prison; he was a cat burglar.
Let me do it, let me do itLet me blow up the balloonLet me do it, let me do itLet me go to the moon
One moment they were there and we were having funNow they've disappeared, every single one.I don't know where to go and I'm feeling rather scared
My Gran was a Caribbean ladyAs Caribbean as could beShe came across to visit usIn Shoreham by the sea.
Nobody knows what Jonjo knows. Nobody knows but he,So Jonjo took me for a walk and showed his world to me.
All you see is outside me: my painted smile,the rosy-posy shell, the fluttery eyes.A butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth-type me
We goin' on a school trip today,De whole class goin' to Whitney Bay,Ah teckin' me ball an' bat with meTo play beach cricket, an' let me see,
I spied a small lonely boy.I was his beautiful red balloon,from morning through to noon,