Clash City Rocking

In those days i could drink a lot of lager lager lager always pints of lager – nothing else – and talking in the foyer and spotting faces in the crowd like ‘Oooh look there’s -----‘ whoever and so on and smoking fags, more fags, more lager, punk fucking rockers? Back in The Green Man before with the juke box chucking out ‘White Riot’ and all the punk hits of the day – excitement levels rising we’re going to see the fucking Clash!!! Drink more lager – zips pins up bondage up yours trousers lager fags faces in there from Dunstable, Wycombe, London  and all the satellite villages come to The Clash and Kris fucking Needs of course in his leather jacket of course – punk birds punk boys – we’re all young and full of cum that we don’t have much fucking use for – just a two minute walk to the Civic Centre – there’s The White Rabbit the fucking ex-hippy who’s hip to Punk and putting bands on for us for whom there was nothing else to do but go see Punk bands in this stinking shit-hole town – so the hall’s packed of course and on They come and on the go with so much fucking energy Strummer soaked in spit from wankers down the front poor bastard – faster, FASTER LOUDER and so it goes and so it went the pogoing going on and on and on – the sweat the shoving the sneers the cheers the elbows the heat the lager lager lager – and when it’s over and the encores are done and the sweat dried on I stumble around town praying I don’t meet the gangs of soul boys out for Punk blood – stumble into a cul-de-sac where my brother’s visiting someone ‘cause he’s giving me a lift but I’m so pissed i can’t remember the address he gave me so I knock on all the doors and finally find the right one – get in the car – feel so fucking sick – tell him to stop, open the door, puke up all that lager lager lager onto the verge – yeah of course I had A DAMN GOOD TIME!