In the garage where the amps hum and whine,
Where the world is a blur through the windowpane.
A knucklehead tunes his guitar, all riffs and rhymes,
Banging out beats with a drumstick in hand.

"I'm just a fool," he'll say as the bassline drones,
"Living for nights when the crowds go wild."
Electricity crackles, a neon heartbeat thrums,
As sweat drips from brows under strobing lights.

Knucklehead's got no time for fancy chords,
Just power chords and a voice that wails.
Through grit and through grime, in the smoke and roar,
He finds his truth in every chord he plays.

So here's to the knuckleheads of this world,
The ones who scream till their throats are raw.
They keep it real with amps cranked loud,
And in the dark they shine like stars.

♫♫♫ Vektrax
"shut up and play."
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