Chapter 7: Greaser, Rotten Hood... (JC's P.O.V.)
I am a greaser, a hood, a JD.
I blacken the name of our fair city.
Juvenile Delinquent.
No count hood.
Dirty rotten greaser, you're no good.
I'll fight until the day I day.
They tell us that a greaser never can cry.
But all I got are passerby's
Givin' me dirty looks, with their eyes.
A dollar, maybe one or two,
And a damn well polished, switch in my shoe.
A record with the fuzz a mile long,
And deep down inside I know I've done wrong.
But I've got my gang,
Hell,
They're all I need.
And we'll stomp the socies with their filthy rich greed.
But really beating them?
There ain't no way,
cause, 'They've got all the breaks'
Yeah, that's what they say.
And even though it's a cold, hard fact,
We're a gang,
They're a distrustful pact.
And we fight for fun, hatred and pride,
But I'm not like the rest.
I'm just along for the ride....
