Scouse poet Mick Turpin was the editor of Another Day Another Word ranting poetry zine.
He’s a Skinhead Now
A shaved head in a Harrington jacket
A lone snout in a crumbled packet
The sound of a crew coming down your street
With steel capped boots upon their feet
A pair of canvas and scala braces
A pair of D.M.’s with white laces
With a Ben Sherman upon your back
For when you’ve got these you’ve got the knack
You’re a Skinhead now, you hang round in a crew
And now you’re one of the chosen few
You’re into Trojan, Ska, and Oi!
You go to Brighton for the fun and joy
A day out with the crew, when you can drink a few
Throw up on the shore and still drink more
You walk along the prom and feel the power and hate
You can feel the tension, you need to fight
You can feel your strength and your might
So you leg the hippies down the beer
Smash up a pub and rob more beer
Then down the station, locked up for the day
The charges are violence and the cause of an affray
So you’re in the same cell as your mate
Thinking of excuses for going home late
But you don’t give a fuck don’t give a toss
You know the score, you’re your own boss
So remember you’re a Skinhead you should be proud
For you’re the one who stands out from the crowd
M.G. Turpin
