fauxcroft

Punk is dead

It’s buried in the cellar,

When it became a fashion

It became a ghetto dweller,

It lost its appeal,

To those who felt it more

Than the close everybody wore,

For those from the ALF

And representing at CND,

To supporting the miners strike

And fighting poverty,

To those without the spikey coloured hair

And without the leather jackets,

True punk evolved into more than that,

And in spirit it continues

Through rebellion and dissent,

Because this was what punk really meant,

To be, not just an anarchist symbol

Painted on a fucking shirt,

But to fight the systems that inflicts so much hurt.