Bottlin’ it

Skit

Verse 1:

We’re flickin’ mud from our studs, boast n’ raucously joke,
Like hyenas wearin’ shinnies ‘mate I’m scorin’ the most,’
Racin’ over like whippets, first to line outside the crooked gym,
Like a bull, kickin’ dust to kit n’ hit the football pitch when
(urgh) suddenly I’m shoved by this kid, Ross,
Struttin’ with his chin up, pushin’, thinkin’ he’s boss,
Shocked, tell him ‘oi, get the back of the queue’
He turns ape, shut up prick, what the f#*k you gonna do?’

Every syllables a bullet like a gun’s in his throat,
Staring down the barrel, powerless, I’m stunned and I choke
As testosterone smoke burns deep in his mean eyes
I back down; ‘cause ‘mother raised me to just be nice,
I see fright-enin’ images; me fightin’ him as he
Finishes wipin’ blood off his white shirt and grimaces,
Shake from that dizziness as everybody’s whisperin’,
I’m grittin’ my teeth like a dog at Ross’s sniggerin’

Skip to the changin’ room, whip my kit down on the bench,
Eyes are shiftin’ left to right, the atmosphere feels pretty tense,
“Why you on the football team!?” Ross is grinnin’ to his friends,
jus’ pretend I didn’t hear, he wraps my tie around my neck,
So tight I can’t breathe, “get off me, don’t please!”
He’s squeezin’ up a fist, “ you tell the teacher, get a nose bleed,”
(door slam) They leave, sat alone I struggle breathin’,
‘I’m gettin sick of bully, wish I had the guts to beat him.’

Chorus:

Man I’m sick of this, getting pushed around by bigger kids,
If I had the might, still wouldn‘t hit a thing,
But every pool their lies a shark who bites the little fish,
And I can’t bottle it forever . . .
Why should I bottle this forever . . .
I won’t bottle it forever . . .
Yeah, I gotta stand up for myself!

Verse 2:

Stagger out of the gym, my mate slaps me on the back “you played the worst game,
That Ross tackled you hard, your shirts torn mate,
What’s up bro?” “dunno man, jus’ froze up like a snow man,’
But inside my bloods boilin’, so I pelt this coke can
So hard it hits Ross on the back of his leg,
He’s so cross that steam pops from a crack in his head
Crappin it’, I’m lookin’ straight behind like someone else is guilty,
He’s stompin’ over like a colonel (gulp) “’think he’s gonna kill me!”

“Was just an accident,” grabs the back of my neck,
A crowd gathers around to watch what actions comin’ next,
He says, “my boots are dirty so why don’t ya’ kiss them clean,”
His friend giggles, “naah, Ross, don’t do that man, it’s mean,”
He shrugs him off, “lick ‘em, or I swear you’ll get a beatin.”
All gapin’ I shake as I get’ down on my knees and . . .

The crowd laughs, I feel humiliated,
They start to march but, I say “jus’ wait a minute!”
Mate skips in front of me, “run away, think about it,”
Brush’ him off, stand’ my ground, shoutin’ brings the crowd in,

Feelin’ so surrounded, towerin’ all around us,
Me my shadow stand alone, no-one makes a sound as,
He’s boppin’ up to me, everybody stops,
He breathes like a beast through his nostrils, says . . . “what?”

“what’s the point yeah? Tryin’ to make me look a fool?
I’m scared of comin’ to school, don’t bottle it
“what’s your point yeah? keep thievin’ my stuff,
Why you beatin’ me up? don’t bottle it
“what’s the point yeah? sick of lookin’ behind me,
to check you’ll find me, don’t bottle it
“what’s your point yeah? sick of feelin’ inferior,
Nobodys superior, don’t bottle it

“what’s the point yeah? when a whole crowd jus’ does nothing,
the good guys won’t stop it don’t bottle it
“what’s your point yeah? n’ what the f@#k you gonna do?
I’ll still stand my ground n’ say get the back of the queue.

(Crowd roar, cheer, whistle, ‘oooh’)

Chorus:

Man I’m sick of this, getting pushed around by bigger kids,
If I had the might, still wouldn‘t hit a thing,
But every pool their lies a shark who bites the little fish,
And I can’t bottle it forever . . .
Why should I bottle this forever . . .
I won’t bottle it forever . . .
Yeah, I gotta stand up for myself!

Skit