Ground Chuck

Every punk in Sacramento

Every artist, and every kid

knew the legendary Ground Chuck

and all the things we said he did

Could it possibly have been true

was he cursed, was he blessed

with chalk or sticks or strings

he'd hammer out a holy mess

Chuck the metalhead, punk, and artist

chalking sidewalks for a meal

run across the street to tell the awfulest joke

and my laughs were always real

He'd coax a racket from any instrument

or sing like a banshee's cry

he was the spirit of our scene

he'll haunt us all until the day we die

I know he got his fill of cold beers

and some other guy's as well

He was quick with an I love you

or to tell a prick to go to hell

Racists could get fucked

he was fearless in their face

we were his tribe, his club, his family

hardcore, punk rock, artist was his race