Black boots, white skin
Dirty thoughts of mortal sin
Guitar chords and smashing drums
Posh little kids pretending to be from the slums
Grey streets and grey skies
Burger vans selling pukka pies
Fake T-shirts and printed posters
Brand new leathers on the posers
Flat cider and watered down beer
Touts selling tickets out of fear
Swaying crowds and singing fans
Be puking later by those burger vans
Girls looking hot and guys looking drunk
21st Century kids saying this is punk
90mins later after the encores
Only litter covers the concert floors
A journey home and drunken smile
Knowing the next gig might be a while
