Copyright for photo to original author (Remove filter)
77, 78, PUNKed
Our yesteryear
Youngster's fear, turned to dust
Just then. We discovered punk,
we dunked our souls
unlikely society trolls, we were individuals
residuals, no modern comparison
An Oliver's army garrison, we fought back
dressed in black, moved by the beat,
leather booted feet stomped the city.
what a pity, Johnny Rotten died
We cried, while out of reach
On Rockaway B...
Thursday 21st September 2023 8:52 am
Recent Comments
raypool on OUR HALL
1 hour ago
HÊlène on Now or Never
1 hour ago
HÊlène on SPRING CAFE
1 hour ago
R A Porter on Bungalow Dreaming
3 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Bungalow Dreaming
4 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Final visit? ( fictional )
5 hours ago
John Coopey on Bungalow Dreaming
5 hours ago
John Coopey on Final visit? ( fictional )
5 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Tom Doolan
6 hours ago
R A Porter on Bungalow Dreaming
6 hours ago