| Hey Kids!
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| Hey Dad!
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| What’da want to do today?
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| We don’t know.
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| Wanna go to the matinee?
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| NO!
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| Wanna go to the Amusement Park?
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| NO!
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| Wanna go to the punk rock show?
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| Yeah! |
| Let’s go to the punk rock show!
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| Lost in a sea of combat boots,
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| Flush the bouncers with wasted youth
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| When did punk rock become so safe?
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| When did the scene become a joke?
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| The kids who used to live for beer and speed
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| Now want their fries and coke
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| Cursing and flipping birds are not allowed,
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| In fact let’s keep noise levels down
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| Must separate the church and skate!
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| Why don’t we put pads on the kids?
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| Helmets, head gear and mouth pieces!
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| Then we could pad the floor and walls,
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| Put cameras inside bathroom stalls
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| We make sure only nice bands play,
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| Make every show a matinee
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| Teach kids to be all they can be,
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| And we could sing my country tis of thee
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| Sweet land of liberty
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| When did punk rock become so safe?
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| I know it wasn’t Duane or Fletcher,
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| Who put up the barricades
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| Like a stake in the heart,
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| Somehow we got driven apart
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| I want conflict! |
| I want dissent!
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| I want the scene to represent
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| Our hatred of authority,
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| Our fight against complacency
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| Stop singing songs 'bout girls and love!
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| You killed the owl! |
| You freed the dove!
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| Confrontation and politics
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| Replaced with harmonies and shticks
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| When did punk rock become so tame?
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| These fucking bands all sound the same
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| We want our fights we want our thugs!
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| We want our burns we want our drugs!
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| Where is the violent apathy?!
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| These fucking records are rated G!
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| When did punk rock become so safe?! |