It started out so innocent.
Seagrams 7, four bottles in hand.
We tried to find the local bar,
But got wasted in the van.

We went back to the hotel.
We showered, shaved, and drank some more.
Then we went back into town,
Still looking for the bar.

Then we met some locals,
They took us home.
They were unaware, they gave us that stare,
They didn't know.

We found a party going on.
We were told that we were welcome to stay.
Until we took over their stereo,
And blasted Skinhead reggae.

Soon the mood of the locals changed.
They started giving us the evil eye.
Most of the kids that were on the porch,
Got scared and went inside.

What we didn't know was
The best was yet to come
It would soon be clear
The booze and the beer
Would lead to rough fun!

Three dollars change, all you can drink
Dirk's bar on a Wednesday night
The scene was serene, pretty nice and clean
Until the Skoidats got in sight

Flapjack's causing trouble
And he needed a helping hand
He had to get help from an empty bottle
Because the Skinheads could barely stand

Next thing we know he was ejected
But then we snuck him in the back of the room
He said "You boys better back me up, because
There's going to be trouble soon!"

And the boots went in hard.
It was the police...
That gave us that old stiff arm.

What we didn't know
Was the cops were just starting their fun.
We were unaware there was hate in the air
And we were the targeted ones

Two billy clubs and a broken nose
A tumble down a flight of stairs
A faux gang war and a blue squad car
Toilet paper and broken mirrors.

The media victims on a rampage
The cops were the ones who were right
They said "None of you drunken Skinheads
Will leave Breckenridge tonight!"

We will never learn
And we will never return to Breckenridge!

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