Skinhead Swan Song

An Old Skinhead dons his denims and Doc Martins, and takes out his chain for one last hurrah!

Cyril laced his Doc Martens
Prescribed for violent altercations
Ox blooded and bloody weapons
Battle scarred and battered
Essential kit for tours of duty
The last of the Skinheads dressed for battle

The intimidating black gum shield
Filled out his gaunted haunted face
Taking pride in his denims
He gripped his chain and took a swing
The old battle cry resonating from his arthrithic throat
'Ger up ye b*****d!

He worked up a frenzy and beat the crap
Out of his council bedsit
'Taste that steel! What did ye bleedin' say?
'Are ye lookin' at me ye toe rag!
He still knew his lines even at eighty one
It was time to bow out
He needed some one to bow out on
Skinheads are funny like that
Involve other people for the crack

The Teddy boys were juking it up
Fifties nights for the decrepids
Ducks arses groomed and combed
Dry cleaned rockers in dry cleaned crombies
'That'll be the day when I die'
The old vinyl floor filler whippin' up the adrenalin
Defibrillators and oxygen on standby
Cyril burst in then

He took out two Teddys and worked his Docs hard
Hard men are still hard in old age
Once a hardo always a hardo they say
The chain was swinging now
Wrecking the jukebox and escalating the battle
'Come on ye b******s! roared Cyril
Five teddies were downed now
Then the beer bottle came crashing down

Cyril staggered as his head burst open
His heart packed in and called it a day
A smile came to his face as he took one final look
His Doc Martens oxblooded and bloody
The last of the Skinheads bowed out
His chain by his side
Skinheads are funny like that....