NARRATOR    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 DECIDIN' 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'D 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 HAVE TO PAY FOR JUST BEING THERE.       BUT LEAVE THEM ALONE, LET THEM GO AND PLAY    THEY CARE NOT FOR WHAT'S AT THE END OF THE DAY    FOR WHAT IS TO COME, FOR WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN    LIFE HAS NO ENDING WHEN YOU'RE SWEET SIXTEEN    AND YOUR FRIENDS ARE WITH YOU TO TALK AWAY THE NIGHT    OR UNTIL MRS WONG SWITCHES OFF THE CHIPPY LIGHT    THEN THERE'S ALWAYS THE CORNER    AND THE STREET LAMP'S GLARE    AN' 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'S POSSIBLE,    THE WORLD'S WITHIN YOUR REACH    AN' 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.