It’s just a phase,
A rebellious turn,
Part of the road.
It’s just a stage,
The youths are idle,
You’ve lost the bridle,
Then you screech
“If I’ve told you once…”
The same old speech…
Like talking to the fence.
Suspended talk, mid litany –
You take a long, deep breath.
Then comes this weird epiphany,
And you storm off down the street!
Five hours later you reappear,
The family’s really missed you.
“We’re starving…” Yes – they make it clear,
Unplugging from their gadgets.
They tear away from cyberspace,
Reality’s for ancients.
But then they see you sitting there,
All calm – relaxed and quiet.
“Mum! What’s happened to your hair?
It really looks a riot!”
You deal a punk rock “I’m so cool” stare,
More striking than your monologue.
A flashback to those teenage years –
Rebellion seems a distant fog.
“Now listen…” And there’s not a sound,
Then the stylus hits the vinyl…
The record spins around and round,
Rebellion – punk revival.