There's nothin like bein in love an' starin at a big ol' moon.
Hell, when I was in high school, a drive by shooting meant
Somebody had their rear end hangin outta car window.
Got a few mooners in the croud.
Where ya good?
I was All-State my senior year.
Wasn't moonin a great sport, nobody ever got hurt....
You didn't have to be in shape to play...
Hell, the fatter you where the more ya brought to the window.
Chorus:
Big ol moon, I see you shinin,
Till I surprised you smilin bright in the afternoon..
Now I know where you've been hidin,
There's nothin like bein in love,
And starin at a big ol moon.
We used to play this game called Seek and Destroy.
What we do, we get in my dad's crysler with the Electric windows..
My two best friends: Bomber one, and Bomber two would be in the backseat,
With their pants to their ankles.
Chorus
Bomber One to Mother Hen, come in Mother Hen.
Go ahead Bomber One.
Ahh, yeah, permission to fire on a seventy-seven ford galaxy in the left hand lane.
Permission granted Bomber One, lowering left rear bomb hatch now...
Chorus
AHH! Perfect hit!
Their in the ditch!
Granny is outta the car, and clutching her chest,
Return to home base.
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Copy to Clipboard: There's nothin like bein in love an' starin at a big ol' moon.
Hell, when I was in high school, a drive by shooting meant
Somebody had their rear end hangin outta car window.
Got a few mooners in the croud.
Where ya good?
I was All-State my senior year.
Wasn't moonin a great sport, nobody ever got hurt....
You didn't have to be in shape to play...
Hell, the fatter you where the more ya brought to the window.
Chorus:
Big ol moon, I see you shinin,
Till I surprised you smilin bright in the afternoon..
Now I know where you've been hidin,
There's nothin like bein in love,
And starin at a big ol moon.
We used to play this game called Seek and Destroy.
What we do, we get in my dad's crysler with the Electric windows..
My two best friends: Bomber one, and Bomber two would be in the backseat,
With their pants to their ankles.
Chorus
Bomber One to Mother Hen, come in Mother Hen.
Go ahead Bomber One.
Ahh, yeah, permission to fire on a seventy-seven ford galaxy in the left hand lane.
Permission granted Bomber One, lowering left rear bomb hatch now...
Chorus
AHH! Perfect hit!
Their in the ditch!
Granny is outta the car, and clutching her chest,
Return to home base.
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