The Moshing Floor - Steve Taylor

Pendleton elbows

Stick in my craw

Old Doc Marten

He made me say «aaaaw»

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 dying 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

I wanna do that crawl

Malls and religion

Build the new forts

Jesus is a franchise

In their food courts

Who needs commitment?

You gargle, then spit

Just like the home team

In the moshing pit

(Notes and Interpretations)

The moshing floor is the landing pad for stage divers.

It’s also a metaphor for

the end of the 20th Century, where the only action is reaction («whatever,

whatever»), and all commitment to principles gets lost in the free fall.

— Steve