The Punk Rocker to His Punk Rock Chick

Come with me to my rockin’ van

Where we can stick it to the Man

No smoke machine, no studded glove

Will be worth as much as this punk’s love

 

And we will lounge upon leather seats

Watching every new band from down the street

They’ll shred their axes and blast that amp

Which goes to eleven, they’ll break the lamp

 

And I will bargain for Nirvana sheets

So that Kurt Cobain’s face can warm your feet

And if you think that your scene is better

I’ll make you warm with Eddie Vedder
Four pairs of jeans crudely washed with bleach

Which I bought from Steve a dollar each

An acoustic razor, an old brush for your hair

Plus I’ll even let you bang my snare

 

And my own sick band will rock out hardcore,

So every morning you will want to hear more

If you can handle putting down the Man,

Come with me to my rockin’ van

 

A studded belt and Bad Brains patch

Some Minor Threat discs which aren’t too scratched

If of this you’d be a fan
Come with me to my rockin’ van

 

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