Heres something... but I think you have to be a certain "age" to keep up. Written for fun and good memories shared.  Its a longy but I dig it. Its modified but verified! Oi Oi! 

 

 

Punks and The Dolls or A Poem for People

 

Punks and The Dolls came out to play

On another heavy make up day.

Claiming anarchy in the UK.

What a contentious thing to say.

With the Damned and Maclaren looking for pay

Good job the Clash could save the day.

 

Rotten Johnny began his story

Spitting and snarling, pessimistic

Very wise and realistic, 

Where had you been? 

We’d always needed your shouts

Pity you ended in the arms of touts.

 

Jilted John brought us some trifles

The Jam came and loaded the Eton rifles

The Stranglers floated on a sea of gold

One of them will never grow old.

Jimmy Pursey sang for the kids.

People were not sure of the skids.

 

But the Angelic Upstarts from South Shields

Scary, legendary never ordinary

Proper up north sallied forth

Sang for a soldier in the North

Brutal honesty Teenage Warning

Thatchers here countries mourning.

 

Poet Linton Kwezi had a say

Until the SPG and SUS had had their day.

And Cooper Clarke was quite a lark

Going for targets like a shark.

999 and XTC, Stiff Little Fingers going large

Buzzcocks and Siouxsie, Pistols on a barge.

 

Three chords and anger

Have a gander find a place

Take the world from my garage space

Its sitting there on a plate

Fifteen minute fuckin’ guitar solo?

Thats our whole fuckin’ set old mate!

 

Real good Feelgood pub rock made good

Crying our anthem outside club halls

Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll

Graham Parker street barker

Mods in a parker

Uppers and downers burying it

We had fun with all that shit.

 

While Wreckless Eric searched the Whole Wide World

The Ramones came the US flag unfurled.

Television ultra vision under the moon in a marquee.

Patti Smith and Lou rocked it for me.

All the senses, olfactory satisfactory piss factory.

And in CBGB’s the coloured girls go…. 

 

Singing to all us blockheads

Motorheads chinaman blackheads

Skinheads pinheads 

Speed freaks lunatics communists

And socialists outcasts and low casts

We’re a happy family oi oi. 

 

The New York Dolls rocked us under

The heavy riffing of Johnny Thunder.

Dee Dee went to score some Chinese rock

Nearly went totally insane in his head

Sid scored some Chinese rock 

And him and Nancy wound up dead.

 

Then something changed its been agreed

Its a good job we had all that speed 

Or we couldn’t keep up with the corporate greed.

The Punk star shone we could apprehend

But not as long as some pretend. 

They tried new names but the moment was gone

 

Left us with memories to wish upon.

And when alls out in the wash

I’m pretty proud of me donkey jacket

With “hate” written on the packet

Cause it made me the man I am.

Who asked the questions for the rest of my life.

Because Dead Fingers Talk we can walk the walk.

 

Long after the cars were given back their garages

I’ll always remember the punks helping hands

Jimmy helping the little old woman cross the street.

And Mr Conservative who couldn’t see the old woman,

But frowned at Jimmies purple sprayed hair

And the way we gobbed at his corporate chair.

 

Joe and Mick told us to Stay Free

Hopeful words with no pizazz

I wanted to be like Jimmy Jazz

I learned who the Sandinista were

And a lot more shit the boys laid bare

So thank you lads you made me care.

 

And the black lads and lasses who we ska’d it up with

Who gave a fuck when Prince Busters havin’ his say.

We’re white men in the Ham Palais.

Those times standing side by side while we learned to take pride.

I was proud to throw bricks at the Union Jack. 

National Front dangerous, scummy pack.

 

Fuck you Thatcher I wanted my country back!

 

Oooops DeJaVu. 

So fuck you Cameron and Osbourne too.

But where’s our Joe and the boys

Who’s shouting and making the noise

Where’s the Roxy, and 100 club.

Where’s all that fighting dub.

 

And looking back from a thirty year view

Its hard to see anything new

The White Stripes and Rancid

and some old boys still rocking. 

But probably pushed I’d say

At the end of the day whose stayed true.

Mr Billy Childish I salute you. 

 

There’s still loads of us hanging around

Fighting cause we loved the sound.

Lots of others that didn’t bail

over the hills and across the Dale

Shouting out to Paul McHale

still in the fight and Ringing bells.

But we’re older thats for sure… 

 

….and heres the problem that prevails

Where’s the punks of today

Where’s the kids who’re fighting back

Where’s the young punks stomping around

Trying to save a little from fear

Saying fuck you Tory we’re still here. 

Twisted Fairies have a beer! 

Anarchy Dada your still here! 

 

Peace out.. Philk.