Old Tyme Punk

The scene has changed over the years but my friends will never leave my side.

Walking through these streets
Where I used to see the faces
Of all my old friends in these places
Everyone has come and gone
The old scene is dying
With a new crowd coming
Bringing a change to this scene

No more DIY, no more true punks
Who roam these streets with me
That brutal sound and rallying cry gone
Replaced by these children's whining
We talked about working class problems
They talk about their moms and dads
We gave the middle finger to the cops
They give the middle finger to us
We were a family through it all

They leave one another for someone else
Every now and again I hear the sounds
Of the bands I played and hung out with
Coming from that old house
Where all the old punks come out
One more time to see each other
While those young kids walk on by

We know what we are
We know what we preach
Punks not dead not by far
For it still lives in my mind and heart