Collision Course

Did I mention to you about my punk rock radio? Words don't apply on my push it up stereo Transistor party, but the fader's right They're gonna speak, come and blast it on a reggae, all the night Whoo! Sham 69, roots reggae on my temple With a 45 record too, on the turntable With the turntable kicking, man, it took away, yeah When the sun come a rising and let the song begins Singing! We're on a mission, got no remorse One hundred miles an hour, collision course With the glow of the light and my radio down Four better pieces from the record found I dropped the needle watching Creedle and Shout Now, I'm playing a black man at the record shop Deep in the night in the caos scums My rhythm gets striven by the beat of drums 45, 33 RPM, Hey, Mr DJ, let us in! Check it! We're on a mission, got no remorse One hundred miles an hour, collision course