Fly Me To The Moshpit

"Ladies and gentlemen. The next song is a classic. A standard. The kind of song they play in lounges all over the galaxy. But we're going to do it a little differently. We're going to fly. Not to the moon. Somewhere better."

"Fly me to the mosh pit. Let me stomp among the stars."

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Fly me to the mosh pit.

Let me stomp among the stars.

Let me see the pit is spinning.

Let me break a few guitars.

In other words, hold my axe.

In other words, don't hold me back.

Fill my heart with elbows.

Let me swing till I can't feel.

Let me lose myself completely.

Let me know the pit is real.

In other words, watch me fly.

In other words, watch me die.

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Fly me to the mosh pit.

Let me crush beneath my feet.

Every face. Every body.

Every rhythm. Every beat.

Fly me to the mosh pit.

Let me dance until I drop.

The pit is my heaven.

The pit will never stop.

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You are all I long for.

All I worship. All I need.

The pit is my religion.

The pit is how I bleed.

In other words, hold me close.

In other words, feel the blows.

Fill my lungs with sawdust.

Let me breathe the chaos in.

Let me feel the bodies pressing.

Let me know I'll never win.

In other words, let me fall.

In other words, let me have it all.

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"You ever been in a mosh pit? Ever felt the push and pull of a hundred bodies moving as one? That's not violence. That's communion. That's the thing that makes you feel alive while you're destroying the ones around you."

"That's why I sing. That's why I swing. That's why I keep coming back to the pit. It's the only place I've ever felt at home."

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Fly me to the mosh pit.

Let me stay there for a while.

Let me lose my face. My name.

Let me learn to smile.

In other words, I'm home.

In other words, I'm not alone.

Take me to the center.

Where the bodies spin the fastest.

Where the blood becomes the rhythm.

Where the pit becomes the pastor.

In other words, I believe.

In other words, I'll never leave.

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Fly me to the mosh pit.

Let me stomp among the stars.

Let me feel the bodies breaking.

Let me count the battle scars.

Fly me to the mosh pit.

Let me crush beneath my feet.

The pit is my heaven.

The pit is where we meet.

Fly me to the mosh pit.

Let me swing till I can't stand.

The pit is my promise.

The pit is my promised land.

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"That was 'Fly Me to the Mosh Pit.' The classic. The standard. The one they play at the end of the night when the bodies are stacked and the floor is slick."