fauxcroft

I am in a dark and smokey hall

Red lights scan us all,

Then I hear the slow aching cords

A dark and satanic exciting thrall,

Then chords they step up a gear

And the guitars start to steer,

The punks into a frenzy

I so love being here,

And a voice rips out, screaming

Lyrics of messages and meanings,

The punks are leaping up and down

In a haphazard way it’s careering,

Side to side and back and front

It’s so chaotic and out of control

But we don’t care, it frees the soul,

Multicoloured hair in anarchic flair

A multicultural mix of punks,

Who just won’t be told, what to do

Or even to conform, to the norm,

We don’t need society or its rules,

We don’t need their fucking leaders

That’s for the ignorant fools,

Who follow without question

And who confidently do as they’re told,

We are punks, loving punk rock music

Anarcho-fucking hippy activists,

Having such a good time in a tiny hall,

Banned from all the other venues

Which means nothing to us at all,

Many punks are homeless anyway

And are living out of squats,

Drinking bottles of sherry and cider

Or whatever they got, to get out of their heads,

And as the music bangs out its sounds

Of anger, suffering and pain,

It also conveys the truth you see

That we won’t be oppressed or restrained,

We are the anarcho-hippy punks

And we don’t care what you go to say,

We are the anarch-hippy punks

And we’ll be doing it our own way,

Fuck your society and your system

Because we’ve seen the people that it’s failed.