Here's a story about a man who tries to live the best he can
Does what in his heart feels right, he's not afraid to stand and fight
Doesn't try to preach his way, just tries to live on, day by day
Doesn't fit into your view of what a punk's supposed to do
Who was elected to say what's protected
To say what is wrong, to sensor our songs?
Was a vote taken on what we should make
And on what we should eat or wear on our feet?
So he goes on, on his own path, but keeps finding others wrath
But not from center, left or right, it's his own brothers he must fight
The people that he calls his friends want to shape him, mold and bend
Want the man to be controlled, his mind to fit their present mold
Doctrines adopted, now you're co-opted
"you're one of us, in hardcore we trust"
Is this what our scene is? i can't believe this
You call that punk? you're all f*cking chumps!
KNOW THYSELF AND DO WHAT THOU WILT
FOR WHO IS Holier Than Thou?
Who was elected to say what's protected
To say what is wrong, to sensor our songs?
Is this what our scene is? i can't believe this
You call that punk? you're all f*cking c*nts!