used to be rock kids were sharp as a tack
pick up their axes and ack-ack-ack
Tube-ism a You-phenism for Alberta rocks
Like Una Stubbs, locked up for a stretch in the docks

Each time the heatwave passes,
a little tornado blows me
Every time i stick it to the upper classes
the wind cries Mary

Chinese Rock is marching to your shores,
pretty soon you won’t be able to stand up
since the incident at LA County Jail
I give a fist to the face not a handup

Dandelion blowin in the wind
gimme a chance to unwind
feathers and lead weights falling about
constantly blowing my mind

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