Legend has it in forty seven Four thousand bikes met a force of seven Fourth of July was the time In a town called Hollister At the uphill climb
Poor Jack Kerouac, riding with his paperback Camus In the pocket of his army fatigues It's kind of hard to spend your time Keeping cans of soup in line When you've been the waist gunner On a B.17 singing
Anger Incorporated Anger Anger Incorporated Anger
Whoever you are They will scare No friend of hoodlums anywhere Like John Dillinger, number one Crime crazy filthiness all rolled into one