The aging skinhead leaves the house
The shining bone untroubled now
By stubble, fluff, and other stuff
His wiry frame betrays no hint of bloat
As he rubs at a single smear of dirt
On his Harrington coat
Pulled on over his Fred Perry shirt
And Sta-Prest jeans
And sixteen hole Doc Martens
Gleaming like a pair
Of midnight suns
He walks into the world
Surveys the streets with jaundiced eye
This bastard world of bother always
On the brink of chaos into which
He’d once gleefully leap, with savage cry
Restoring order with pale tattooed fists
And his icy iron forehead’s
Blood-baptising, blessed kiss
A veteran of a thousand rucks
He tries to recall every broken nose
Each shattered smile
Each quaking, collapsed crotch
He put the boot into in act of holy war
The sound of screaming in his ears
Of foreign layabouts and queers
The battles he has fought to keep this country clean and pure
This England that he loves
Those days are dim and distant to him now
The aging skinhead walks erect
The children look at him with sneers, he’s sure
And when he’s passed they giggle in his narrow shadow
Where they once went white with fear and awe
He grits his teeth; what do they know
They don’t know anything
The kids today don’t know they’re born
They don’t have any discipline
Their problem is that they weren’t broken in
The cane, the strap, the steel rule
They never did him any harm
His life was clean and hard
Working in the factory
Making ball bearings
Forty years gone by
And now he has to put up with
The little bastards staring
Just because he never lived a lie
Or let things slide
Apart from Mary
He once thought
But she was just a slag
And anyway the women they just make you soft
He much prefers
The company of men
Down at the Lamb and Flag
Watching the match free from all doubt
Shouting at our lads to stuff the krauts
And downing pints of decent British lager
The aging skinhead almost feels calm
Discipline, he thinks, that’s what it’s all about
You stick to what is right and true
You keep it clean and follow what you started through
And you won’t miss things
If you get in there and stamp them out
Before they get to you
Well, it’s a life
You stay within
And there’s nothing to fear
But that one speck of dirt just won’t wipe clear
Tags: aging, brutality, control, fascism, racism, repression, violence
