I play as fast as I can — I’m the Gingerbread Man
With a fast hand — won’t ya kick me outta your band
I only play for me — I’m the king of Unity
I’m a team of one — a defective hired gun
I play like a ham, well that makes me Spam
And then I wonder why nobody ever wants to jam
'Cause ya feel like a pawn in a volume war
And I’m the only one who bothers keeping score
Because I got no feel — I got no emotion
My riffs aren’t real — I just go through the motions
I’m fulla tricks and trinkets that I always use
I ain’t got much choice — I can’t play the blues
And just in case I’m in a finger race
I keep it up and I keep pretending that I win the chase
But if ya play faster than the speed of light (according to Einstein)
Ya go back in time — and end up in the 80's
With our big hair
Jackets with fringes
Stretch pants
Mascara
Choreographed kicking
You got a big laugh outta 70's disco
But you became the same by a different name
Ya forgot to change your calendar 10 years in a row
Now ya can’t find the pace of the new game
I play it like a ham, yeah with lots of spice
I’m the Son Of Spam in a block of ice
Yeah, I can’t lay back — I get all confused
And if I slow it down you’ll see the riffs I already used
Because I got no feel — I got no emotion
My riffs aren’t real — I just go through the motions
I’m fulla tricks and trinkets that I always use
I ain’t got much choice — I can’t play the blues
Yeah I actually believe that if I wail up and down a scale
Then the world is gonna get up on their feet and yell…
«Hail Ronald! Hail Ronald!
Take your big head and go to Hail, Ronald!»
Yeah, I can’t lay back — I get all confused
And if I slow it down you’ll see the riffs I already used
I play like a ham, well that makes me Spam
And then I wonder why nobody ever wants to jam
Because I got no feel — I got no emotion
My riffs aren’t real — I just go through the motions
I’m fulla tricks and trinkets that I always use
I ain’t got much choice — I can’t play the blues