With large brown eyes and an aching heart,
You wish you could sing like that,

Be famous and rich, never have to worry,
But she was singing at the age you were playing,
She was practising when you were swimming, running and jumping,
She never was a child like you but never grown up,
That's the price to pay to be one of the best.

Goal! Goal! Goal! What a player, what a man,
Inspires you to go down to the park,
Inspires you to want to play like him,
But after that you go home to wife and family,
Watch some TV, play with the kids, fight with the wife,
Just like most of the other families in your street,
But more ofter than not, he's in an empty room,
Between towns, hotels, games, wives and children
But sometimes, that's the price you have to pay.