The Stench of Hardcore Pub Trash - King Parrot

Conquer and divide us, the old grey tote is dying

Now we’re marching up over the hill, the dero, drunk, broke rockers

You think we’re gone but we’re coming for you

We’ll be back with better songs, better riffs, better pills

Determined, won’t be gone without blood

I’ve got a meeting in an alley and I’m buying a gun

Spastic, and relentless, a little drastic, unrepentant

Hands off, your pissing me off!

Yhe stench of hardcore pub trash remains!