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 fo-ist!
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
(What's that Mom, I have to solo? Okay.)
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

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