Fresh Fruit For Rotting Punk Rock Stars

I was happy getting high in the basement
Of an old brick house in burns park
Pissed off and isolated
We turned the lights off and played along in the dark

So you cashed in on the character
Safety pins and sabotage
And we all bought your counterfeit anger
While you were driving sports cars, doing nothing for the cause

So spike your hair and roll your jean cuffs
Put on your docs and black leather jacket
Shout and sing like you’re an anarchist
But you’re full of shit, and you know it

Does your past catch up and make you choke
When you get a good look at yourself?
Cause you were telling racist jokes
We kept the lights off and sang along in the dark

So dye your hair and put your plaid pants on
Shout “fuck the man” but you are the man
Sing your 72 hookers song
But you’re fucking wrong

The real great rock ‘n roll swindle
The real great rock ‘n roll swindle
Our heroes laughing all the way to their million dollar homes
Fall back down with no control
We’re gonna ride the wave of the Status Quo