Joe was a punk and only 6 foot tall
He had a green mohawk and fought against all
But he didn't predict his terrible fate
When one day he found himself shoved through a gate
Jimmy was a rudeboy and he wore black suits
With porkpie hats and white shirts and Doc Martin boots
He went to all to the ska gigs and he really digged speed
And when he saw a good deal he said "That's what I'll need".
Jimmy walked through the mall one Sunday afternoon
"I think I feel like another hit soon"
He says to himself, and then he caught a glimpse
Of punk rocker Joe taking ice from some gimps.
"I'd like some of that," says Jimmy with a smile.
Mohawk-man Joe said "Don't touch my stockpile
"Rudeboys are twisted, they dig the wrong music"
"And plus you like Jamaicans, you fucking dropkick!"
Jimmy said, "You fucker! What's wrong with you punks?"
"You're all a bunch of glue sniffers, racists and drunks"
"Now sell me some speed before I see red"
"Or you and your gimp mates will end up dead"
A almighty fist-fight came when Joe The Punk said
"I think you'll be the one in a hospital bed"
Then balaclava'd skinheads moved in for the kill
on junkie-man Jimmy, who was starting to chill
The dope went flying and so did the gimps
When Jimmy sent punches right down at their hips
The coppers came, and with their defence
Sent Jimmy and Joe flying into a fence.
Joe and Jimmy were both 6 foot tall
They both had hung out at the local mall
'Til one day when they met their fate
When they both found themselves shoved through a gate
This song is a story of two blokes who are pretty fucked-up in one way or another (both take speed, Joe is a racist and Jimmy is a speed freak), who end up in fisticuffs. The funny thing is neither Jimmy nor Joe wins the fight....the interfering cops get the final say." - Brian.
Ó 1999. Lyrics are not to be distributed without the prior permission of Brian Powell.
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