When I was young and angry I wondered where I got my blood.
The blood that boiled easily,
The blood that made me cuss.
The blood that told me do not follow,
But fight for what you want.
When I pinned the picture
Of Johnny Rotten to my wall,
I asked myself what makes me
punkrock most of all?
And I thought that it was something that I’d found
Something mined from the world around.
But time has passed my punkrock blood still lasts
What makes anyone punkrock at all?
My mom is so punkrock
She has her own beliefs.
She never just rolls over and blindly believes.
My grandpa is so punkrock
He’s as bullheaded as any king of punk
He’ll call you out on what you’ve done
And the saunter away with his little funk.
My grandma was so punkrock
She always wore her heels.
And never let being a woman stop her
From finding and getting the best deals.
My family is so punkrock
We may not have red or blue or green hair
But if you want a people who fight for what they believe
Well we’ve got a great big group right here.
Cause punkrock is not about the clothes.
It’s about not being afraid to stand up and cause the boat to rock
Any true punkrocker knows
It’s your attitude, not appearance that makes you so punkrock.
Punkrock is never backing down,
Never giving up
And never letting anyone tell you no.
So I have punkrock in my blood
And that’s where I get it
Through our family lines runs a little bit of mud.
And I will never regret it.