3 Tales of the Sweet 666s
A short ONE-SHOT written as a POEM in couplets. It’s pretty classic punk mentality, and it’s got a million references that always seem to work themselves into what I do (not on purpose, but I love them). Have fun with it!!!
3 Tales of the Sweet 666’s
Skipping down, the cracked up streets
Where little girls and boys, sing for their treats
A little Devil’s child, of course does the same
She’s a sweet 666, and is always quite tame
But she’s turned away, at the end of each day
And told to resign, and bow down on the way
What’s wrong with these people, who push and they shove?
They swear at one, while the others they love
As the girl grew older, the bashing ensued
All the old scams, and the adults ever shrewd
She’s all busted bones and nasty cuts
They label it “accident”, but she can’t get up
Stuck at the doctor, asking “Is this infected?”
It wouldn’t have happened, had she been protected
There was no way to live, and no way to die
There was no way at all, to be satisfied
No one will listen, and no one will stop
No one will hear, the ideas that she’s got
Dreaming the same dream, every night
Wishing she’d grow, and forget the old sights
She’s suffocating, now that she’s grown
And now she is ready, to up a new tone
So one day she burst, and threw it all back
And murdered her pain, with delightful tact
But the killing ended, not just with the people
To the pain and stains, they hide in the steeple
And all the sweet children, came out as one
With the Sweet 6’s, so the battle was won
They marched on down, the boulevard stretch
In uniforms black, armed with a catch
Knives and guns, strapped to their belts
Telling every last bitch-slapping-shit, how they felt
We’re the Sweet 6’s, and we’re taking over
It’s our turn to rule, over this October
We’re the Sweet 6’s, we do as we please
Do not decline, our hopes and our needs
After September has come, gone and passed
The innocence we had, didn’t quite last
So now that the summer, has come and left
It’s the punks and geeks, who are put to the test
Walking with death and covered in cake
Waiting for all of the, living to wake
Set in a coma, by drugs that sedate
Just hope when we wake, it won’t be too late
The elderly women, and men stand back
For fear, the ridiculous rebels attack
They poke and they shove, and hope we give up
And wonder if we, have all had enough
But they underestimate, our strength and spirit
They think we’re too young, and don’t have the merit
They’re impossible obstacles, to be sure
But is it the worst, that they can conjure?
So here we are, in the moment of a heartbeat
Marching down, another cracked street
Like a desperation, murmur of whisper
Blood is the currency here, dear Mister
And Mistress, oh please, don’t go away
You’ve got a secret, and we’re willing to pay
Floating and searching, for the hiding ears
Of the arrogant faces, of all of your peers
Slowly forgetting, their dirty looks
And the pornographic, shady filled books
So the neighborhood army, and republican Dicks
Pulled out their rifles, for a quick easy fix
But all the Sweet 6’s, dropped the trap doors
And the idiots fell through, and into the moors
And all the punks laughed, on looking down
At all of the squirming, pretentious pink clowns
Dancing around, with abercom-fitch
All falling down, out of air in a ditch
Building a fire, and tossing them in
Who knew it’d be, this easy to win?
Billie had warned, they would stop breathing
When air is “uncool”, cus it’s all deceiving
And now he’s our leader, St. Jimmy declared
Waiting and ready, and fully prepared
All of the wicked, were put in their place
And the devil-love children, were cut from the case
So now when the kids, all striped in black
March down the street, across Christie’s tracks
They call, “Come one, come all to this tragic affair!”
But, “Watch out old fools! Or you’re in for a scare!”
And with that, Mr. Rotten threw down the dirt floor
A million young faces, came to settle the score
Ready and waiting, at the crimson door
Looking as if, they were bad to the core
But underneath, was a purity even
You’d never guess, what was the reason
Standing at edge, of the dance floor of dirt
Hands full of weapons, and eyes full of hurt
Ready to take back, their lives that were stolen
And revenge all the hearts, that were bleeding and swollen
This was the day, when their band would play
Rescue the happy, the bright and the gay
Time to set, the cruel record straight
And deal with the evil, sneers and the hate
This is our day, and this is our light
To show the whole world, that we own the night
“Don’t let these bastards, dictate your life!”
Don’t let them tame down, your pain and your strife
“Don’t let them tell, you all what to do!”
Don’t let them steal, all the freedoms you choose
“We are the leaders, we have the power!”
They are the servants, and this is our hour
Don’t let them copyright, what makes you “you”
And don’t let them rob, all that you hold true
We are the whatsernames, of this fair land
We accept the beginners, that take our hand
And if you fight back, we will defend
What we deserve, and will make amends
And all the lovely, Sweet 666’s
Dance on the curbs, eyes lined with X’s
Skateboarding in places, that were blocked off
And refusing to eat, from the set out pig trough
We drink Coca-Cola, when you’re around
But we all know the pot, is the best thing in town
We sulk all through school, to make a point
But when you’re not looking, we light up a joint
They beg that we quit, or we’ll surly go blind
But we all suspect, it’s a myth in their minds
Walking through places, blocked off with signs
Defying grass yards, for which they still pine
Banging our heads, to buzzing guitars
In every spare basement, attic, and garage
Bashing on skins, with broken drum sticks
Laughing away, days with small tricks
Magazines, papers, and cigarettes galore
All of the things, that we like to whore
Hiding them in, the mattress or lamp
Working day jobs, as a waitress or temp
We are the Sweet 6’s, who walk down the way
In old leather jackets, and bills we don’t pay
The high tops, and bottles empty of beer
Strewn in your yards, that were always so clear
Not cus we’re drunkards, not cus we’re pricks
It’s cus you loath us, and we’re sick of your shit
The eyeliner and makeup, we’ll never trend
By our hopeless hair, do we stand til’ the end
They sing and they kiss, through all razorblades
Showing their style, without any aids
All of the love, that forever we’ll give
We’ll laugh and we’ll dance for as long as we live
Let me be sing with you, for one last kick
And prove that, my Darling, I’m your Sweet 666
3 Tales of the Sweet 666’s
Skipping down, the cracked up streets
Where little girls and boys, sing for their treats
A little Devil’s child, of course does the same
She’s a sweet 666, and is always quite tame
But she’s turned away, at the end of each day
And told to resign, and bow down on the way
What’s wrong with these people, who push and they shove?
They swear at one, while the others they love
As the girl grew older, the bashing ensued
All the old scams, and the adults ever shrewd
She’s all busted bones and nasty cuts
They label it “accident”, but she can’t get up
Stuck at the doctor, asking “Is this infected?”
It wouldn’t have happened, had she been protected
There was no way to live, and no way to die
There was no way at all, to be satisfied
No one will listen, and no one will stop
No one will hear, the ideas that she’s got
Dreaming the same dream, every night
Wishing she’d grow, and forget the old sights
She’s suffocating, now that she’s grown
And now she is ready, to up a new tone
So one day she burst, and threw it all back
And murdered her pain, with delightful tact
But the killing ended, not just with the people
To the pain and stains, they hide in the steeple
And all the sweet children, came out as one
With the Sweet 6’s, so the battle was won
They marched on down, the boulevard stretch
In uniforms black, armed with a catch
Knives and guns, strapped to their belts
Telling every last bitch-slapping-shit, how they felt
We’re the Sweet 6’s, and we’re taking over
It’s our turn to rule, over this October
We’re the Sweet 6’s, we do as we please
Do not decline, our hopes and our needs
After September has come, gone and passed
The innocence we had, didn’t quite last
So now that the summer, has come and left
It’s the punks and geeks, who are put to the test
Walking with death and covered in cake
Waiting for all of the, living to wake
Set in a coma, by drugs that sedate
Just hope when we wake, it won’t be too late
The elderly women, and men stand back
For fear, the ridiculous rebels attack
They poke and they shove, and hope we give up
And wonder if we, have all had enough
But they underestimate, our strength and spirit
They think we’re too young, and don’t have the merit
They’re impossible obstacles, to be sure
But is it the worst, that they can conjure?
So here we are, in the moment of a heartbeat
Marching down, another cracked street
Like a desperation, murmur of whisper
Blood is the currency here, dear Mister
And Mistress, oh please, don’t go away
You’ve got a secret, and we’re willing to pay
Floating and searching, for the hiding ears
Of the arrogant faces, of all of your peers
Slowly forgetting, their dirty looks
And the pornographic, shady filled books
So the neighborhood army, and republican Dicks
Pulled out their rifles, for a quick easy fix
But all the Sweet 6’s, dropped the trap doors
And the idiots fell through, and into the moors
And all the punks laughed, on looking down
At all of the squirming, pretentious pink clowns
Dancing around, with abercom-fitch
All falling down, out of air in a ditch
Building a fire, and tossing them in
Who knew it’d be, this easy to win?
Billie had warned, they would stop breathing
When air is “uncool”, cus it’s all deceiving
And now he’s our leader, St. Jimmy declared
Waiting and ready, and fully prepared
All of the wicked, were put in their place
And the devil-love children, were cut from the case
So now when the kids, all striped in black
March down the street, across Christie’s tracks
They call, “Come one, come all to this tragic affair!”
But, “Watch out old fools! Or you’re in for a scare!”
And with that, Mr. Rotten threw down the dirt floor
A million young faces, came to settle the score
Ready and waiting, at the crimson door
Looking as if, they were bad to the core
But underneath, was a purity even
You’d never guess, what was the reason
Standing at edge, of the dance floor of dirt
Hands full of weapons, and eyes full of hurt
Ready to take back, their lives that were stolen
And revenge all the hearts, that were bleeding and swollen
This was the day, when their band would play
Rescue the happy, the bright and the gay
Time to set, the cruel record straight
And deal with the evil, sneers and the hate
This is our day, and this is our light
To show the whole world, that we own the night
“Don’t let these bastards, dictate your life!”
Don’t let them tame down, your pain and your strife
“Don’t let them tell, you all what to do!”
Don’t let them steal, all the freedoms you choose
“We are the leaders, we have the power!”
They are the servants, and this is our hour
Don’t let them copyright, what makes you “you”
And don’t let them rob, all that you hold true
We are the whatsernames, of this fair land
We accept the beginners, that take our hand
And if you fight back, we will defend
What we deserve, and will make amends
And all the lovely, Sweet 666’s
Dance on the curbs, eyes lined with X’s
Skateboarding in places, that were blocked off
And refusing to eat, from the set out pig trough
We drink Coca-Cola, when you’re around
But we all know the pot, is the best thing in town
We sulk all through school, to make a point
But when you’re not looking, we light up a joint
They beg that we quit, or we’ll surly go blind
But we all suspect, it’s a myth in their minds
Walking through places, blocked off with signs
Defying grass yards, for which they still pine
Banging our heads, to buzzing guitars
In every spare basement, attic, and garage
Bashing on skins, with broken drum sticks
Laughing away, days with small tricks
Magazines, papers, and cigarettes galore
All of the things, that we like to whore
Hiding them in, the mattress or lamp
Working day jobs, as a waitress or temp
We are the Sweet 6’s, who walk down the way
In old leather jackets, and bills we don’t pay
The high tops, and bottles empty of beer
Strewn in your yards, that were always so clear
Not cus we’re drunkards, not cus we’re pricks
It’s cus you loath us, and we’re sick of your shit
The eyeliner and makeup, we’ll never trend
By our hopeless hair, do we stand til’ the end
They sing and they kiss, through all razorblades
Showing their style, without any aids
All of the love, that forever we’ll give
We’ll laugh and we’ll dance for as long as we live
Let me be sing with you, for one last kick
And prove that, my Darling, I’m your Sweet 666