We were in the corner the Clanduff by the door. On opposite sides of the dance hall staring across the floor. The lights go out the fists fly in it's the usual Friday scene. Because adrenalin is the strongest drug that there has ever been. There's this funny little bloke asking all these questions writing down what we say. So we wound him up like a clockwork dog and we watched him trotting away. Two weeks later there's a feature in the paper called 'Britain's Urban Shame'. It's got the teenage thugs of the new estates with our photographs and names. Ch: So we cut our hair to prove it. And we wore the clothes to prove it. And we armed ourselves to prove it. And we chose our place to prove it. And we danced that way to prove it. And we made ourselves believe it. Until all the world believed it. Until even you believed it. And I was just a little part but I felt the wheels turning. And these are all just little flames but the whole damn city's burning. Now that we were famous they watched everything that we did. We were the villains of the neighbourhood heroes to all the kids. And even when that old bloke died we pretended that nothing was changed. We just broke the silence with some stupid song and went on with the stupid game. Ch: Yes we cut our hair to prove it....