billy druid s face is marble he keeps every thought in its place he lets the days turn tomorrow someone s always walking on his grave he wears the lines just like garbo and talks at a saturmine pace listening to the strange notes marvel only giving what it takes it s a sad man s world and for billy it s sure to crown dragging beauty into darkness inflicting a pale white frown and the matter the runs through billy s head is too concerned to fall3
['early us punk', 'hardcore punk', 'punk']