You used to laugh
As we passed on the sidewalk on yonge street
Yelled and screamed from cars
Called us goofs--called us dead meat
You’d corner us at parties
Where we didn’t know no one
Play smart guy with dumb questions
Ask what planet we’re from
Yah, or course it hurt
To cut my hair this way
Dog shears, you know?
Doesn’t it hurt to shave your face
Of course my friends green hair
Is of course her natural color
Her whole families got it
Her mother grandmother and brother
I guess your friends will be asking you
A very similar question
Your double black eyes look natural enough
Looks like you were born with them
Yaah, and that’s the reason why
I’ve always cut my hair this way
Just to hurt you assholes
When you see me every day
I love the real shock value
That puts you right in your place
Is the realization that i’m for real
When you look me in the face
Your morals and motivations
Are totally out of line
You think that im just like you
You re totally fucking blind
And even then i understood
Your hustler mag redneck fantasy
To fuck some chick in leather
That belongs standing next to me
Then you see me in a bar
You want to fight and call me a fag
Watch it on a video next time
You’re wanking at a stag
Never wanted to play their games
Their lifestyles and attitudes
All looked quite lame
So i rode a bike, after i sold the car
Spit on the sidewalk outside rock bars
Then i cut my hair and put on real boots
Kicked in cars and the front window at roots
The clothes that i couldn't find in the trash
Were waiting at goodwill for way less cash
Magic markering washrooms and spraypainting walls
Punching out rockers in suburban shopping malls
And then there was Yonge Street a real playground
Piled up skinheads stomped into the ground
To everyone from anywhere we were hated somewhat
We were their enemy and always we fought
They thought leave us alone meant we didn’t want to fight
No one smart wanted to get caught so we’d do it at night
They were bent on calling us fags unless they were calling us shit
Never getting the facts straight so that the name would fit
We really only looked that way to give us an excuse
To chase em down and crush em give them a taste of their abuse
So we’d punch out all the longhairs and piss off the cops
Crunching conformists not knowing when to stop
Now you’re the conformists and very little has changed
And it still makes me happy to see your faces rearranged
You now everything's supposed to be OK cos punk rock’s now in style
The whole idea has been warped and i still wish you would die
As we passed on the sidewalk on yonge street
Yelled and screamed from cars
Called us goofs--called us dead meat
You’d corner us at parties
Where we didn’t know no one
Play smart guy with dumb questions
Ask what planet we’re from
Yah, or course it hurt
To cut my hair this way
Dog shears, you know?
Doesn’t it hurt to shave your face
Of course my friends green hair
Is of course her natural color
Her whole families got it
Her mother grandmother and brother
I guess your friends will be asking you
A very similar question
Your double black eyes look natural enough
Looks like you were born with them
Yaah, and that’s the reason why
I’ve always cut my hair this way
Just to hurt you assholes
When you see me every day
I love the real shock value
That puts you right in your place
Is the realization that i’m for real
When you look me in the face
Your morals and motivations
Are totally out of line
You think that im just like you
You re totally fucking blind
And even then i understood
Your hustler mag redneck fantasy
To fuck some chick in leather
That belongs standing next to me
Then you see me in a bar
You want to fight and call me a fag
Watch it on a video next time
You’re wanking at a stag
Never wanted to play their games
Their lifestyles and attitudes
All looked quite lame
So i rode a bike, after i sold the car
Spit on the sidewalk outside rock bars
Then i cut my hair and put on real boots
Kicked in cars and the front window at roots
The clothes that i couldn't find in the trash
Were waiting at goodwill for way less cash
Magic markering washrooms and spraypainting walls
Punching out rockers in suburban shopping malls
And then there was Yonge Street a real playground
Piled up skinheads stomped into the ground
To everyone from anywhere we were hated somewhat
We were their enemy and always we fought
They thought leave us alone meant we didn’t want to fight
No one smart wanted to get caught so we’d do it at night
They were bent on calling us fags unless they were calling us shit
Never getting the facts straight so that the name would fit
We really only looked that way to give us an excuse
To chase em down and crush em give them a taste of their abuse
So we’d punch out all the longhairs and piss off the cops
Crunching conformists not knowing when to stop
Now you’re the conformists and very little has changed
And it still makes me happy to see your faces rearranged
You now everything's supposed to be OK cos punk rock’s now in style
The whole idea has been warped and i still wish you would die