The sun was out in Oxford on that Tuesday afternoon
I was convinced I would succeed.
That I’d achieved three sevens at key stage three
Seemed all I’d ever need.
That morning they’d put us on a coach
Told us we could achieve the earth.
That we were the BEST in our whole year
We were determined to prove our worth.
To the public school professors
Who gave us an inspirational chat.
We were merely state-school kids but
We wanted to be just like that!
That fresh-faced self-assurance
Was a wonderful thing to behold.
The neat lawns, the quaint little town
Fucking hell, I was sold.
Three years down the line
Any naiveté is long since gone.
The smug little cunt who thought she could succeed
Was left in Oxford with the sun what shone.
