A lawless brat, from a council flat,
A little bit of this, and a little bit of that – Oh, Oh.
Aerosol, the bricks.*
A pigeon that was flying better dead than when it was alive,
A second-hand suit and a Dr. Martens boot,
Punk, 2 Tone, infinity and (one step) beyond.
A life lived, given and taken.
No questions asked.
We were that close, it was scary,
We were that close, to getting it right,
Or crashing and burning.
When time wasn’t of the essence,
When time didn’t mean money,
When time was an irrelevance.
Remember them summer days,
When we took whatever came our way,
And got away, hey, but not too far,
Took a spin round in your broken-down car.
*with a nod to Ian Dury
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