Punk Rock's an Oxymoron


I look across the street, a dead punk's what I see
got nothing left to lose and I don't want to choose
something's just not right, his pants are way too tight
he's knocking on our door and I don't wanna fight

the songs that we sang are somewhere far away
I don't wanna hear them play

i don't want to hear the new songs that you play
I don't want to see the project you just made
I don't really care what your girlfriend says
just shutup, go to hell, and go away