| We run along, and we come up with this idea to go down to the stream and check
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| it out for fish
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| So we’re down by the river, downstream
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| There’s half a foot of water in there
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| Little silver fish, but nothing substantial, 'til one of their boys calls us
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| further down
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| Lying in the water is a wee foal, four or five days old
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| He’s all skin and bones, gray collar, and he’s got flecks of blood on his coat,
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| 'cause he’s cut himself up really badly on the sharp rocks
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| We’re just standing over him and you can see his back leg’s snapped
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| And he’s breathing, he’s alive, but just about
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| So this big conversation gets started up between the boys who suddenly reckon
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| themselves the leaders, and they’re deliberating as to what we should do
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| Someone says «Drop a rock on his head», but I’m looking in their faces and I
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| can see they’re either scared stiff or clueless; |
| it’s all bravado
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| And this foal on the ground, in real pain, all this chitchat going on,
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| going nowhere. |
| Next thing, one of the priests sees us, sees the foal,
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| tells us not to move and we’re done for, really done for
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| Group of boys will always get the blame for hurting a foal
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| Group of Belfast boys will get a hammering for sure
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| So it’s clear to me in an instant, and I’m down on my knees, and I take the
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| foal’s head in my hands and I put him underwater
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| He’s thrashing around a bit to start, so I press down harder until he’s drowned
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| Priest arrives, though
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| He’s grabbing me by the hair, dragging me through the woods, promising me a
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| proper punishment, but I knew I did the right thing by that wee foal,
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| and I could take the punishment for all our boys
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| I had the respect of them other boys now, and I knew that
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| I’m clear of the reasons
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| Dom. |
| I’m clear of all the repercussions
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| But I will act, and I will not stand by and do nothing |