| Oh, it’s payday, yes, it’s payday
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| I got my pay cheque from the man
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| There’s not so many jobs that I can get these days
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| With these marks all over my hands
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| But I’m gonna take that cheque
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| I’m gonna head across the track
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| To the wrong side of this town
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| I’m gonna open the door, I’m gonna bask in the roar
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| Of that familiar buzzing needle sound
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| Because the ink in my skin
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| Where the needle went in
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| However many years ago
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| Has left marks on my arms
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| And they say who I am
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| Everywhere that I go
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| Some people have none and
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| Some have one that they’re ashamed of
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| Most people think that we’re fools
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| Some people don’t get it and
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| Some people don’t care
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| And some of us, we have tattoos
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| Oh it’s fading, yes, it’s fading
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| Some of the things that I believed back then
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| Yes, my skin has started sagging and
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| The ink has started running
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| And I’ve got buddy tattoos with people
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| Who aren’t my friends
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| Oh I’ve even got black x’s from when I was straight edge
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| So crack open a beer friends now
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| And let’s make a pledge
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| If we had the luck to live our lives a second time through
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| We’d be sure to get the same tattoos
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| We’ve got hearts for the lovers
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| And playing cards for the gamblers
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| Black Flag bars for the punks
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| And sailing ships for the ramblers
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| We got skulls for the living
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| And the pain pays our dues
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| And some of us, we have tattoos |