Standing at the bus stop with my shopping in my hands.
And I'm overhearing elder ladies.
As the rumours start to fly.
You can hear them in the schoolyard.
In the scrapyard.
In the chip shop.
In the phone box.
In the pool hall.
At the shoe stall.
Every corner turned around.
It started with a school girl.
Who was running.
Running home to her Mam and Dad.
Told them she was playing,
in the change room of local football side.
They said tell us again,
she told them again,
tell us the truth,
we find it hard to believe.
'Cause he Taught our Steve.
Even trained me.
Taught Uncle John whose father of three.
Only takes one tree, to make 1000 matches.
Only takes one match, to burn 1000 trees 1000 trees.
You see it in the classroom.
In the swimming pool.
Where the matchstick men are made.
At the scout's hall.
At the football.
All the wise we trust are paid.
They all honour his name.
He did a lot for the game.
He got his name knocked up above the sports ground gates.
But now they're ripping them down, stamp on the ground.

Picture gathers dust behind the bar in the lounge.
Only takes one tree,
to make 1000 matches Only takes one match,
to burn 1000 trees 1000 trees
Wake up and smell the rain.
Shake up, he's back to stay.
He hasn't been on a holiday.
His growing seeds don't believe.
While he's been away.
In the schoolyard.
Changing room.
Playing field.
Bathroom.
Phone box.
Office blocks.
Corners turned around.
They keep doubting the flame,
tossing the blame.
Got his name knocked up above the sports ground gates.
And they're ripping them down, stamping the ground.
Picture gathers dust in the bar in the lounge.
Only takes one tree, to make 1000 matches.
Only takes one match,
to burn 1000 trees 1000 trees 1000 trees 1000 trees.