Follow me down into the light, I can hear them laughing and being loud,

These are my friends and I love them, we all know each other inside out,

No thoughts of grandeur amongst us, each one has blue denim in their veins,

For five years we even bought our clothes together so we all looked the same.

Our world was all about what comes next, anything to stop from getting board,

Daring each other to do something mad, if you refused you were branded a coward?

Chatting up some older guy’s girlfriend was always good for a punch up or two,

Or cheating against a hustler on the pool tables, standing your ground if he accused you.

We were a close circle that’s the truth, but at times we faced off against each other,

It was better to stand your ground and take a hiding than to go crying to your mother,

New girlfriends could also upset the balance; young teenage jealousy could be dangerous,

Hormones running riot and bordering on insanity, loyalties been tested with every crush.

At this time in our lives image is everything, pimples and spots mean the end of the world,

If Satan himself guaranteed pimple free discos, many a young soul would have been sold,

Now then let me bring you back to the dare, it starts out as the usual messing around,

Then as one thing always leads to another, the subject of bravery comes to town.

One winters night the debate went on for hours, who was the bravest we just have to see,

Who was going to draw the short straw, and then poor old Danny had to get his ear pierced,

By today’s standards this was no great deal, until I explain how this was to be carried out,

We all held his head steady as the red hot needle was pushed thru his ear without a sound.

A thread was left in his ear to keep the hole open, no signs of emotion will be put on display,

Afterwards he must carry on as usual; he will always be remembered as Danny the brave,

I can remember been put thru this rite, the throbbing pain afterwards was tough to endure,

To keep a brave face and no sign of weakness, gained a mark of respect amongst us for sure.

Then came a night during Christmas week, lights turned off as we sat around a gas heater,

All of us in or around sixteen years old when the generous owner handed us some beers,

I believe that night was a turning point for me, the boy was gone and I met the man inside,

Soon the high stools and pubs were calling us, and the joker in the glass will not be denied.

Now the jukebox in the corner sings no more, and this boy has taken the great leap alone,

As we start drifting apart into new circles, away from our town and into the unknown,

For well into my thirties I still wore it, that badge of honour proudly hanging from my ear,

The hole slightly off centre in my left earlobe, a reminder of a time that I still hold dear.