A Liverpool Skinhead poet. Released at least two tapes with poems, 'Classic Fights Tape' and 'Bad to Worse', in the early 80's.
A shaved head in a Harrington Jacket
A lone snout in a crumbled packet
The sound of a crew coming down your street
With steel cap boots upon their feet
A pair of canvas and scala braces
A pair of D.M.'s with white laces
With a Ben Sherman upon your back
For when you've got these you've got the knack
Your a Skinhead now, you hang round in a crew
And now your one of the chose few
You're into Trojan, Ska and Oi!
You go to Brighton for the fun and joy
A day out with the crew, when you can drink a few
Throw up on the shore and still drink more
You walk along the prom and feel the power and hate
You can feel the tension, you need to fight
You can feel your strength and your might
So you leg the hippies down the pier
Smash up a pub and rob more beer
Then down the station, locked up for the day
The charges are violence and the cause of an affray
So your in the same cell as your mate
Thinking of excuses for going home late
But you don't give a **** don't give a toss
You know the score, your your own boss
Se remember you're a Skinhead you should be proud
For you're the one who stands out from the crowd.
(M.G. Turpin)
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