A swinging summer.

When I was a kid, the first thing we'd do when the
holidays started was to run to the park and bagsy a swing,
that swing would be yours all summer.
Our mums' would come and drag us home at night.

We never told them we'd also been playing down
by the canal, jumping across locks, even swimming.
And the graveyard, bloody hell, the weirdos we talked
to that used to hang out there.

Instinctively we knew as long as our mums' found us at the
swing park, every night, it was going to be a great summer.