NOBODY WANTS TO BE MOIST
A BUNCH OF OVERACTIVE PORES
I STRUGGLE OPENING DOORS
AND I LOSE EVERY TUG OF WAR
NOBODY WANTS TO BE WET
THOUGH SWEET SOUL I DO SECRETE
CAN'T MAKE DAMP FINGERS SNAP TO THE BEAT
THE MICROPHONE IS DRIPPING
MY BARITONE IS SLIPPING
A RHYME INTO THIS LINE I'LL HAVE TO FOIST
NOBODY WANTS TO BE MOIST
NOBODY WANTS TO BE MOIST
THOUGH ON THE DANCE FLOOR I GLIDE
ON STAIRS I'M PETRIFIED
(THAT'S HOW HARRY WISMER DIED)
NOBODY WANTS TO BE SOAKED
THOUGH IT IS WITH A GRACEFUL EASE
I DEDUCE IN WHICH WAY BLOWS THE BREEZE
OH SURE I HAVE THE POWER
TO MAKE PASTE FROM A POWDER
BUT LAST TIME I DID THAT NO ONE REJOICED
NOBODY WANTS TO BE MOIST
A MAN SO ANCILLARY
MY LITTLE SONG IS BURIED
NOT TILL THE COMMENTARY IS IT VOICED
NOBODY WANTS TO BE
NOBODY WANTS TO BE
NOBODY WANTS TO BE MOIST
