When middle finger politics
Turn to rules of thumb
Could it be that we refused
The shape of punk to come
Here is where the buck stops
If we're going to make it now
Need I remind you
Maybe there's relief
I got into punk rock
To slaughter the sacred cow
But every time I do
Someone's got beef
So, why not
Burn down the old stomping grounds
Turn down the heirlooms that we found
Scream out the songs and never tire
And we'll all get along like a house on fire
I would count myself among
Those who started out so young
Searching for a voice that speaks to where I'm coming from
Baptized
In the church of discontent
Capsized
When we wander and dissent
Log years and age, dog ear the page
At the dawn of malaise
How quickly we forget
If it's all a charade let the call of the stage
Break our falls from grace
'Cause I'm not done just yet
Until we
Burn down the old stomping grounds
Turn down the heirlooms that we found
Scream out the songs and never tire
And we'll all get along like a house on fire