(spoken)

There's a few bob in your pocket

And you've got good friends

And it seems that summer's never coming to an end

Young, free, and innocent

You haven't got a care

Apart from deciding on the clothes you're gonna wear

The street's turned into paradise

The radio's singing dreams

You're innocent, immortal, you're just fifteen

And who dare tell the lambs in spring

What fate the later seasons bring?

Who'd tell the girl in the middle of the pair

The price she'll pay for just being there?

But leave 'em alone!

Let 'em go and play

They care not for what's at the end of the day

For what is to come, for what might've been

Life has no ending when you're sweet sixteen

And your friends are with ya to talk away the night

Or until Mrs Wong switches off the chippy light

Then there's always the corner and the streetlamp's glare

And another hour to spend with your friends, with her

To share your last cigarette and your secret dream

At the midnight hour, at seventeen

It's just another ferry boat, a trip to the beach

But everything is possible

The world's within your reach

You don't even notice the broken bottles in the sand

The oil in the water

And you can't understand how living could be anything other than a dream

When you're young, free, and innocent

And just eighteen

And only if the three of them

Could stay like that forever

And only if we could predict no changes in the weather

And only if we didn't live in life as well as dreams

And only if we could stop and be forever just eighteen