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He, there you are

Painted leather

Spikes and studs

Safety pins

Through your ears

Nose and bud

Drinking and blowing

Until you throw up

When people ignore you

You just smash them up

Loudmouth you have

Ideas you have none

With shits like you

Nothing ever gets done

He, look at you

You really think

That you're it

You say

That you're a punk

But you're just a bag of shit

Your ignorance is huge

And sure you look like hell

But punk's not just a look

It's in the mind as well

We don't need your violence

Your hatred and your doubt

Peace and freedom for all

That's what punk's about

Punk still lives

But not thanks

To you!