And all of those thousand thoughts That could be in the back of your mind Looking at the dressing room door Am I good enough to don these whites? It’s the SCG But the nerves are bilingual Often settled by a single Just hit the damn ball Yeah the game is that simple Jitter the fear of a cheap dismissal On the walls hung the accolades The names that have been engraved The Bradmans, the Benauds, the giants of the game That rose up like a fig tree out of Saturdays The kid was seeing them like basketballs The summer that he had been recalled Feet moving and a better balance on the shorter ball Scoring freely and barely getting caught at all He was brought up Nambucca River way Town of Macksville young kid begins to play The way he wields the willow outside off No matter what was throw at him well it would bounce right off Runs came in fifties and tons Ever since he was young Save your legs, Phil, it’s four more runs Baggy cap was not a match for the Australian sun Next to noses got burnt but the emblem on the front And the write up in the local paper But this time not in the back of the sports pages A local lad had cracked the Shield side A couple of years after the Ashes of ‘05 Raised his bat that much that he got his baggy green Flying across the Indian Ocean with the Australian team Number 1 ranked opposition, Dale Steyn at the peak of his powers Debuting against him in a nerve wracking hour He failed at first, caught by the keeper But it was the second innings of the match that he featured Second Test of the series a century in both innings The youngest to do it at twenty, no longer a secret And it had all gone to plan But his destiny was never that simple Cause simple is rare A temporary member in and out of the Test But soon enough a permanent threat But there, they’re in the middle that November night Let the groundsman turn on the lights Radio reports saying the batsmen died So let the groundsman turn on the lights And all of these thousand thoughts That would be in the back of their minds There walking out the dressing room door Solemnly and side by side So let the groundsman turn on the lights Grown men crying at traffic lights And every day there were bats outside So let the groundsman turn on the lights