I hear the barley calling my name
So I put on my best shoes and head down New St.
Where the [bad word] mat hurries me in
pint glass awaits to drown my sins

Looking in the windowpane, looking in the glass.
Seeing my reflection, seeing my past
Sitting at the same bar, playing that same game
Drinking that same beer, killing that same pain

Well little Mikey was only 16
He's on top of the punk rock scene
Rasing his fist for a political fight
And he can't do wrong and only a right

And his mother can't tell him
No one can tell him
He wagered this war he's gonna win the fight
Thirty years later, still singing for tonight
 [bad word] 
Saturday night, reminisce and renegade. We're on a mission to no submission.
The brigade, the youth is on the loose tonight and we shout it out loud!
Saturday night! Saturday night! Saturday night! We've got to do it right!
Saturday night! Saturday night! Saturday night! Tonight's the night!

The clock strikes 12, the sun has gone down
The party's risin' up, risin' up in your hometown

And the spirit's in the street, and the fire's in their eyes and
They're living for the moment, their passion never dies
And she looks him in the face, she said she would never leave and
Her whispers still haunt him and he still believes
 [bad word] 

We'll go to the bottom of every bottle
The end of theline on every story
Those times we miss, those times we reminisce
Those were the good old days
I hold in heart and cherish. Never forget
 [bad word] 

Tonight's the night we've gotta do it right!
The clock strikes 12, the sun's gone down
The party's rises up, risin' up in Burlington.
Saturday night, reminisce and renegade. We're on a mission to no submission.
The brigade, the youth is on the loose tonight we gotta do it right!