How Not To Get Signed

I started a punk band when I was 16,

with all the guitars a big mohawk and an out of time beat.

we played for years and years on end wherever we could,

building up our studio from equipment that we took

from unsuspecting venues, and bands that pissed us off.

A deluded mix of vodka, and double time songs.

But then the dream it faded and the hard work died.

It takes more than a catchy tune, to end up getting signed.

 

But we had a good time dancing in the stars,

bailing drummers out of jail, and smashing our guitars 

and I wanted to kill you with the guitars around your necks

but then felt our music, felt much better than sex

 

and I know, it's a bummer, so send my apologies to Joe Strummer

and I know, things are funner, so send my apologies to Joe Strummer

 

So there was the boy with hair as curly, as an untrimmed sheep,

the boy with a heart as big as the gap in his teeth,

the musician genius with white lightning in his hands,

and the drug dealing drummer, who we still don't understand. 

it sounds like i'm complaining but it's nothing but love,

a clash of silent broken egos, just wasn't enough.

and it sounds like I'm saying, the time we had was bad

but I'm 99.9% it's the opposite of that

 

But we had a good time dancing in the stars,

bailing drummers out of jail, and smashing our guitars 

and I wanted to kill you with the guitars around your necks

but then felt our music, felt much better than sex

 

and I know, it's a bummer, so send my apologies to Joe Strummer

and I know, things are funner, so send my apologies to Joe Strummer

nostalgia, makes me shiver, so send my apologies to my liver

and I know it's a bummer, so send my apologies to Joe Strummer.