dates o Asia o Canada o United States o Australia o Europe o UK * The Band o Band
out of matches But broken out of stone ?Taken from the fire of your fiddle Words of unspoken, blinding truth If I couldn't see it, I was lost in my youth
Quickstep (written 4/77) I knew my youth couldn't last forever I knew some chords so I got the band together Sick of sleeping and beating up my mother
language that we all could understand I remember the day that I earned my first pay When I played in a small pick-up band There I spent my youth, and
the punk rock show? [Kids:] Yeah! Let's go to the punk rock show! Lost in a sea of combat boots, flush the bouncers with wasted youth When did punk
up sipping java strolling up the totem poll, what's my only problem scrolling through my Rolodex, who show up my toddler so many hands raised as the band
got my Ziggy ticket Just what the world needs now Another lousy boy band Immitation Velvet Underground No one likes the truth Don't wanna be the voice of youth
every single one without noticing the mold you said you're gross my darling, i said no i'm rock and roll even though i'd never ever been in a band i
wept and bowed and mumbled softly, "Danke shoen" The children on the roadsides of the villages and towns Would stand around us laughing as we stood like giant clowns The mourning bands
I can dance on my own grave, thank you But I can't die now 'cause I got another show Some people keep sayin', I can't last long But I got my bands,
up for grabs Plastic pouches, grams,tabs. Come up the flat man, skin one up World class, yeah, tome enough. Well boys, story, truth? The bittersweet of misspent youth
language that we all could understand I remember the day when I earned my first pay And I played in a small pick-up band There I spent my youth and to
junk And in that dusty attic I enjoyed a music show Listening to the melodies of eighty years ago Doo wacka, doo wacka, doo wacka, doo wacka, doo The band
its misery I think I'd like to start a group so come along with me And all youth stations accross the nation Please play our records for your congrecation. The band
all the little things get me depressed When I was a young boy I got a stereo And I taped all the songs straight off the radio The sounds that the bands
gospels from gossip and bar talk then we declare them the truth We salvage our sermons from message boards and scene reports and we sic them on the youth
I remember all those bands Preaching with motherfucking X's on their hands The Youth Of Yesterday, what else can I say The times have changed and they
I used to work nights with my dad It was the best job I ever had Until them blokes on their bikes came through Said, ?Come on down to Youth, brother,