I am a fence of rusted wire
Cold as a winter city fire
I watch the mud turn deep and grey
While all the students run away
The school bell rings a heavy tone
I stand here waiting all alone
The yellow leaves begin to fly
Under a pale and empty sky
Spinning round the muddy field
Truth is here and soon revealed
Gold and brown they dance and spin
Where the Bullworth games begin
A leather bag hits the wet ground
The loudest noise is the only sound
They chase the ball through heavy grit
While the autumn wind starts to hit
Spinning round the muddy field
Truth is here and soon revealed
Gold and brown they dance and spin
Where the Bullworth games begin
The taxi waits by the iron gate
The driver knows that the hour is late
He sees the rust and the autumn haze
Lost in a schoolboy's frantic maze
A torn old jersey on the grass
I watch the angry teenagers pass
They fight for space in the dirty rain
Driving the wind like a heavy train
The copper coins in the gutter glow
Watching the seasonal currents flow
I hold the line while the colors fade
Deep in the mess where the bets were made
Spinning round the muddy field
Truth is here and soon revealed
Gold and brown they dance and spin
Where the Bullworth games begin
Just a fence in the cold.
Watching the rust turn gold.
Spin it round.
Spin it round.
