We're professional punkers
We come from the suburbs
After 15 years, we're still having fun
Now we're over 30, not looking so purty
At least we got a beat up accordion
That's Erik our drummer, his father's a plumber
He drank enough booze to get Rhode Island drunk
Now sober but smelly he's got one big belly
From livin' the good life provided by punk
Singin' singin' singin'
Buy me a Becks beer or pass me a bong
Gimmie some Bushmills I'll sing you this song
Open another big box of cheap wine
We're over 30 we're doing just fine
Hefe's not satanic he's one hip Hispanic
He grew up with one dozen cousins and kin
He wears baggy pants he know how to break-dance
You've seen him do every impersonation
That's Melvin on six-string "some tell me I can't sing"
Oh I think you can just don't do it 'round me
Stick with what you know playing guitar solo
With Hetson and Watt in punk karaoke
We come from the suburbs
After 15 years, we're still having fun
Now we're over 30, not looking so purty
At least we got a beat up accordion
That's Erik our drummer, his father's a plumber
He drank enough booze to get Rhode Island drunk
Now sober but smelly he's got one big belly
From livin' the good life provided by punk
Singin' singin' singin'
Buy me a Becks beer or pass me a bong
Gimmie some Bushmills I'll sing you this song
Open another big box of cheap wine
We're over 30 we're doing just fine
Hefe's not satanic he's one hip Hispanic
He grew up with one dozen cousins and kin
He wears baggy pants he know how to break-dance
You've seen him do every impersonation
That's Melvin on six-string "some tell me I can't sing"
Oh I think you can just don't do it 'round me
Stick with what you know playing guitar solo
With Hetson and Watt in punk karaoke
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