Poem from Punk Lives, number 9, 1983.
Standing lonely, feeling down
Feeling like a silly clown
My ideas came and sunk
I just wanted to be punk.
Changed my image, changed my gear
Got my guts and lost my fear
I don’t dress just to be seen
Studs, black leather, hair that’s green.
Meet a gang we hang about
Brilliant colours without a doubt.
People call us names we know
They just think we come and go.
I know that this is for real
It just brings out the way we feel
We wear the clothes we like to wear
You whisper things but we don’t care.
But just remember when you speak
We’re not just any kind of freak
To look at us you needn’t pay
Cos we’re punks and here to stay.