[INSTRUMENTAL — skipping kick, bright chops] [VERSE 1 — close, warm] Cold Sunday, muddy touchline Nephew's team in orange His dad's "working" again Third month on the trot So it's me with the thermos Me losing my voice Every time he gets the ball Which is twice, but still [VERSE 2 — same clip] He scans the line of parents Like he's counting stock Finds me, does a thumbs up I nearly lose it, honestly Then some lad twice his size Flattens him fair and square He's up before I've finished Shouting "he's alright, ref!" [HOOK — loud, proud chant] That's my boy (that's my boy) That's my boy Get up again, son That's my boy (that's my boy) That's my boy Get up again, son [INSTRUMENTAL — chops and piano trade bars, bass rolling] [VERSE 3 — quieter, warm] Driving home he says it casual Mud up to his ears "Uncle, you coming next week?" Like it's nothing. Like it's Sunday. I say try and stop me He grins into his sleeve Says "we lost nine-one though" "Yeah, but you got up, didn't you" [FINAL HOOK — fullest, gang of one] That's my boy (that's my boy) That's my boy Get up again, son That's my boy (that's my boy) That's my boy Get up again, son [OUTRO — fragments] Get up again, son [INSTRUMENTAL OUTRO — hats fade, piano holds]
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