In the cockpit, before the fray,
I start the car and drive away,
Push the button, lock it in,
Crank the E and let's begin.
Teeth are gritting, fists are clenched,
Bumps are rising, hairs on end,
Ears are melting, voice is shot,
Head is banging; I'm net even at the chorus yet.
I can feel, I can hear,
I can live for the E.
Tennis racket, baseball bat,
Me and Tom, and our three cats,
Jump off couches, flail away,
Two-man air concert is today.
If Dad could see us just going nuts, he'd stop the show and whip our butts,
But he's the rhythm and I'm the lead,
We thrash the living room in homage to the E.
