Lyrics

You're the kind of prick That really makes me sick Too cowardly to pick a side You'd rather hide In the middle All you do is fiddle, dancing in the middle You gotta grow a spine fast Nail your colours to the mast Come on, wishy washy boy No more time to chill, climb a hill All you do is fiddle, dancing in the middle There's a good team And a bad team And the team in between never win Cos that team are the wankers All they do is fiddle, dancing in the middle Can you see The arc of history? Will you ride The juggernaut of dеstiny? No, you can't see the arc Or the juggernaut Causе you're caught crapping your pants Wringing hands with the Beta Boys And you wanna be everyone's friend Even if everyone is a twat with a boring hat Shaking stupid hands and dancing in the middle We are the middle-dancing men We are the middle-dancing men We are the middle-dancing men We are the middle-dancing men We are the middle-dancing men We are the middle-dancing men We are the middle-dancing men We are the middle-dancing men