There's a young boy kicking tennis balls up against the 
wall
And a young girl climbing out her window to sneak away 
to shows
He spent most of his days trying to take herself away
And she swore to herself that she wouldn't stay
They bumped into each other in a small north-eastern 
city
He was the hero of the football team and she was oh-so 
pretty
She fast became everything that he held dear
And this is what he whispered in her ear;

"If you squeeze my hand three times 
Then you know that I'll squeeze back
And if I squeeze your hand three times
Then you know that I'll squeeze back"

That young boy grew up to be his mother's son
He didn't want to live by all the things his father had 
done
I hope he knows he succeeded in being the better man
No son of his could ask for a better dad
I wish that I had met the mother of that girl
I know that she would be the proudest mother in the 
world
I'd hold her close, not letting go and kiss her on the 
cheek
And I'd thank her for all she's given me

I grew up on Copperhead Road, those early days really 
left their mark
Those nights where I learnt to fly and we were dancing 
in the dark
So take me to Claire Island where we spent all of those 
days
Even though times are a-changing, The songs remain the 
same