As the other kids traipsed off to bed,
You held me on your knee,
I watched the cricket, next to him,
As they made history

The crack of the bat against the ball,
The cheering of the crowd,
I didn't understand it then,
And neither do I now

But his room would always smell the same,
Of mothballs, damp and sweets,
The three of us would all sit around,
In pyjamas with bare feet

The taste of garlic lingering,
The best food in the world,
And I knew what it meant to him,
To be next to his favourite little girl.