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.
fauxcroft 