Remember The Days

[Intro] Do you remember the days? (Yo, if I think really really hard I can remember yesterday And sometimes even before that) [Verse 1] I'm a Westcountry old-timer First thing springs to mind when I think back: cider Nights on a fiver, so cheaper the better And the stronger the better, and the better came whiter [?] brand, Kingfisher if we're chilling But most nights we wanted percentages to be higher I never had the pallet for White Ace But one litre in you'd never tell it from my face Night came found trouble comes everywhere Little scraps spark off the length off my hair Chill in doorways and under trees Link walkman to speakers and listen to some metal there Got tired of the White Stuff, moved to Vermouth and Sprite, like "This is really nice stuff" The effects the same, get us wrecked the same Don't forget you've gotta buy them little white cups Too young for pubs, in the car park Round the back of the swimming pool chilling in the dark, laughing Smashing up abandoned cars in industrial parks Cherry-knocking then scarpering [Hook 1] I backdrift through the twelve years, settled in alcohol mist To the days when it was all raving and blazing and skating and getting wasted Remember the days when... [Verse 2] I never got hurt skating Black-stained fingernails picking grit out of grazes T shirts at the side ripped Ripped jeans at the sides Ripped denim frayed at the top of thigh on my pushing foot Throw myself down steps, never pussyfoot Before I ever gave a F about it looking good Take a fresh deck - sexy and crisp To grip tape peeling, de-laminated woolen wood I'd still pop pop shove-its on it Though the top pop's rotten off it No pop on it Hold it up and it drops, flop it Both ends, pray for face when you hop off it No pads or a hard hat ever A cardboard box and some tarmac's better Crates stack, make ramps, take slams, take slams Take slams, flip like a [?] Shred legs til they're wrecked, lame Schoolyard spot, hot to trot when the feds came One guy, was such a massive prick I still remember that fed's name [Hook 2] I backdrift through the twelve years, settled in injury mist To the days when it was all raving and blazing and skating and getting wasted Remember the days when... [Verse 3] I would thrash guitar, before I'd ever even rapped a bar Days locked in the garage with a axe and an amp And a file full of tab and a head full of Tony Iomi and Dimebag Before the band left my larynx scarred I was bopping Black Sabbath hard Like "Oh no, please God help me" Channelling my anger and energy to mosh pits, riffs, and all things heavy Nights on the farm getting rowdy in cow-sheds Jamming in the barn like loud as hell Next day wake pounding heads Still buzzing off the rain and the sound of bells Ground our next head banging Stayed less eloquent, never even check what the sounds or the letters meant Bust up Bristol for gigs on a school night Mosh bit, getting bruised up like you'd been fighting The scene got actually violent once metal started playing on the wireless It sucked, I was gutted, but it's something more truthful Then I found Task Force and Roots Manuva [Hook] I backdrift through the twelve years, settled in tinitus mist To the days when it was all raving and blazing and skating and getting wasted Remember the days when...