Violet Bodine

A young punk's song to her grandmother

VIOLET BODINE

Even tho'
I'm very old today
I still hafta wait
for my gramma to go away.

I can't get my hair-cut yet
I hafta wait like a little kid
I can't get my mohowk yet
Gotta wait a week just
to shave my head.

My Gramma Violet
disapproves of those violent haircuts.

I've grown in the side
fuzzy, soft as down
combed down the top
my gramma's back in town

Grand MOTHER! VioLET!
I won't even curse in front of you!
Grand MOTHER! VioLET!
I remember not to spit when I'm with you!

Violet Bodine! Yeah, yeah!
Violet Bodine! Yeah, yeah!

She won't care about suspenders or oxblood docs
She only says: "Oh, sweety, never cut yer curly locks!"
She never makes a fuss about my steel-capped boots
But I know she'd shit a brick if my hair's dyed blue.

It's been a zillion years since I've had to pretend
But if she finds out I'm a PUNK it might send her 'round the bend!
She'd think I've joined a crew of idiotic nazi-skins
Her mind would be made up and I'd never hear the end!

She know in her heart her grand-daughter's never mean!
I'm not like those fascist, racist, sexist bullies full of beans!
But these klan-affiliated twits who want to wreck our scene
Go on the Morton Downey show and fill the TV screen
They have Amerika enthralled and they frighten Mz. Bodine . . . .

My Gramma Violet disapproves of those violent haircuts.

Back to GRAMMA'S house!