The Metals

'Run!' We already were, as fast as we could, down the metals - bad move but there's no choice we can hear the footsteps behind boots Dr Martins size 12, 12 hole - trouble - we're running down the metals we're well ahead so far but coming up to the corner, favourite cider drinking spot for skinheads round the bend FUCK!  Frank - the worst of them all.. trapped. whats worse then a skinhead? one who hates your guts, he's getting up, his mates waiting for his signal, behind us footsteps getting closer laughing, they know they've got us. 'Over the wall quick' desperate we climb the wall it's twenty feet down to the railway track we lower ourselves as far as we can, jump and land, winded but OK, there's seven of them looking down now they're really mad we pause to give Frank the finger then start running down the track we're not home yet a bottle comes flying after us smashing behind us we don't stop until we reach the next station climb the wall and run

gosomewhereelsehome, until next time.