Good Old Days

Old Thunderface approaches, but Lightning isn't up for shadow
With Fingers clutching fingers in a slump glimm park of sorrow
No welcome congregation stands, no base from Thumping's 'and
Is this the half-arsed half-masked man-produced poor judgement we're supposed to learn?

Woo-haw, the good old days
Woo-haw, the good old days
Woo-haw, the good old days
Woo-haw, the good old

No fingerprints, no trace of air, no bloody socks around the calves
Merely in for a bag or two, now our only friend is Big Grey Wolf
Here comes Thunderface again, but this time Lightning lights old Thunder
Sound of wood on metal really gets them clenching

Woo-haw, the good old days
Woo-haw, the good old days
Woo-haw, the good old days
Woo-haw, the good old days

The good old