King Parrot The Stench Of Hardcore Pub Trash
Conquer and divide us, the old grey tote is dying
Now we're marching up over the hill, the dero, drunk, broke rockers
You think we're gone but we're coming for you
We'll be back with better songs, better riffs, better pills
Determined, won't be gone without blood
I've got a meeting in an alley and I'm buying a gun
Spastic, and relentless, a little drastic, unrepentant
Hands off, your pissing me off!
Yhe stench of hardcore pub trash remains!