What could this be, too much MTV?
Chalk another fad up for its fall into infamy.
Whatís in a standard if it changes all the time?
Youíre still having trouble in defining your own kind.
Need I remind you, we all knew you before,
you threw the rocks at the stage from your glass house on the floor?
Now I think youíre punk, just because itís in.
You found a foul mouth and a couple safety pins.
Got a peaceful feeling, I donít want to fight no more.
Got a peaceful feeling, I donít care if weíre punk, or ska, or hardcore, enough for you, itís sad but true,
you can call us names till your face turns blue.
Our assurance comes from God, itís nothing new,
weíll never care ëcause weíre never cool enough for you.
That smug look on your face, your nose up in the air,
your patches say youíre open-minded,
but still you couldnít bear,some punk thrown in with ska.
You said it wouldnít work. Well you can take your Vespa home
ëcause ska made you a jerk.
The purist turns a deaf ear.
Heís such an intellect,
Does he think his censorship is gaining our respect?
The raising of a fist, like a trigger of a gun.
Stop and see weíre all alike, and we can dance as one.