I Can't Play the Blues

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 aint 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

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