Lyrics

when I was young I learned the art of beating on things
and then when I grew up I kept repeating my sins
playing my part showing off the art of beating on things
stay in my heart don't scoff when I start feeding the din

didn't let no one tell me it was wrong
I just wanted to hear heads clang and bong

I like the mix of gloves and sticks I like beating on things
it's the perfect muse for my short fuse when I'm heating my skins
kicks and shots are what I've got for competing with strings
love me to death and write on my wreath he loved beating on things

didn't let no one tell me it was wrong
I just wanted to hear heads clang and bong

this is the art
this is the art of beating on things
this is the art
this is the art of beating on things

repeat