Pendleton elbows stick in my craw
Old Doc Marten, he made me say 'aaaw'
Deck your best partner, lasses or lads
Don't you feel lucky in your knee pads?
On the moshing floor
Whatever, whatever
On the moshing floor
Whatever, whatever
Whatever stage, whatever floor
Hangtime, hangtime
And it's 1,2,3,4
What are we diving for?
No guru
No mother
No method
No smile
Nice style
Bad form
Is the body still warm?
I wanna see you blink
Shrinks in lab coats huddle in the back
Whatcha blaming me for? I'm just the soundtrack
All you baby boomers feigning dismay
You hired the nanny, you faked her resume'
On the moshing floor...
I wanna do that crawl
Malls and religions build the new forts
Jesus is a franchise in the food courts
Who needs commitment? You gargle, then spit
Just like the home team in the moshing pit
On the moshing floor...
Written by Steve Taylor © 1993 Warner Alliance Music/Soylent Tunes ASCAP
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