The Infamous Moustache Club, A Headbanger’s Lament – Memories Through the Eyes of my City

Oh Montreal, our dear old town,

Your streets have known our every frown,

But in the dark of night, there lied

A bar that brought our souls alive.

The Moustache Club, its walls adorned

With Hell’s Angels posters roughly torn,

And in the air, the scent of angry sweat

And cigarette smoke, we could not forget

The speakers boomed with bass and drum,

Our hearts beat fast, our bodies hummed,

And in our crowd, we were one with sound,

Our spirits lifted from the ground.

The music there was raw and true,

A catharsis for us chosen few,

And in that dimly lit abyss,

We found release, we found some bliss.

Oh Moustache Club, a refuge dear,

Where one could shed their mortal fear,

And in the darkness, find their light,

As we banged heads with all our might.

Montreal, you’ve given us so much,

But in that bar, we found a crutch,

And through the metal’s pounding roar,

We found ourselves, but nevermore.