It starts :-
I must tell you this:
there was a boy - Tommy Prentice.
The afternoon I'm thinking about
he stopped me with his shout
of just my first name,
all friendly-like - no blame,
jealousy, resentment or distrust -
telling me I must
come out with him now
and play - he had friends waiting, although
it was me that they wanted: without me
the game was no good. OK?
Of course OK. Tommy Prentice
was tall, handsome, cool, useful at fly-half,
with slick, black hair fringeing his level stare.
And he wanted me? Like I say,
of course it was OK.