in visions of acid
 we saw through delusion
 and brainbox pollution
 we knew we were right
 the streets were our oyster
 we smoked urban poison
 and turned all this noise on
 we knew how to fight
 we dropped out and tuned in
 spoke secret jargon
 and we did not bargain
 for what we had found
 in the days of the underground

 we believed in guevera
 we saw that head held up
 and our anger welled up
 but we kept it cool
 no need for machine guns
 the system was [bad word]  our leaders were fumbling
 while we broke [bad word]  we saw them on t.v.
 they'd blown their cover
 and we tried to smother
 their voices with sound
 in the days of the underground

 what ever happened
 to those chromium heroes
 are there none of them
 still left around
 since the days (daze)
 of the underground?

 now we can look back
 at the heroes we were then
 we made quite a stir then
 with our sonic attack
 street fighting dancers
 assassins of silence
 with make believe violence
 on a hundred watt stack
 they offered us contracts
 we said we don't need 'em
 we'll just take our freedom
 and will not be bound
 in the days of the underground.

 and some of us made it
 but not smiling Michael
 his black motor cycle
 got eaten [bad word]  and john the bog dreamt that
 he slept at the wheel
 when he woke it was real
 too late to have sussed
 and jeff was a poet
 who wrote with a spray can
 on walls saying: hey man
 i believe that we have drowned
 in the days of the underground.