Mohawk standing at attention
Protected by spiked, leather armor
To save the world from skinheads, and secular music
Fighting the forces of capitalism, and consumerism
With "Oi Oi" as his battle cry
The music moves him,
While beer and nicotine fuel him.
He proudly wears tattoos, and scars from his past battles
Saying "Fuck the world!"
He doesn't care for your judgments,
Anymore than he cares for me
But he pulls me along anyway
To the beat of his drum,
My punk rock hero.