Gather up ye pots and cans,
Gonna have to share the amps
And move along from band to band,
A race against the sinking sand.
If the pigs come cruising by,
We'll turn off all the lights
And keep the stick from hittin' skin
Until they're 'round the bend.

This is where the Salt are sharing spit and sweat and steam.
The kids may all get out alive, but none of them go home the same.
Another space is closed, you got no place left to go.
So go save someone else and don't you tell me 'bout no fire code.

So welcome to the show,
Down underground underneath below.
Here you can make your own,
Just keep the smoke down.
Keep your smoke from rising.

There's a Laundromat on Main,
By night another place.
From generators, vacant lots,
"Someone upstairs is cool,
Just leave no trace of you."
It's like a new inebriation
Against Prohibition.

Only catch is you can't post the time or place.
You got whisper codes on down the lane, it works better anyway.
See, we tried to be legit, we got bound in red tape,
So had to do it on the sly. This is your noise complaint.

So welcome to the show,
Down underground underneath below.
Here you can make your own,
Just keep the smoke down.
Keep your smoke from rising.

So we stand against the law:
Singers, Dancers, Brewers, Drinkers stand against the law.
We see a celebration and they see a battle call.
Let's put the Middlemen out of a job.
Is this a celebration or is this a battle call?