Walked into the store, me, Sam & Mike, to do a little shopping for some tunes we like. Walking down the isles, casual as we can act, searching down the rows and the boxed set racks. An eye on the door, a blink then at my friends, heart beats down the time ‘till we have to jam. The Misfits, Black Flag, the Velvets, Minor Threat, about to put the Wherehouse a little into debt.

A word with Mike, a word with Sam, we size up our stacks, confirm our master plan, there’s no turning back. Look up overhead to the cameras watching me, I crack them a smile ‘cuz "Hey I’m on T.V!" My stomach’s afloat, my breath short and thin, time to turn my fear into adrenalin.

We’re gonna walk, walk-walk, up to the fucking counter, take one last glance right at our sales associates. We’re gonna walk, walk-walk, then we’re gonna Run Run Run, Fucking Run Run Run! RUN! RUN! RUN!!!

Alarm wails, the clerks are on our tales, that’s our cue to boost Running for my fucking life with only my freedom to lose