Dave Mustaine
Mamas pack their lunches, kiddies pack their guns
Wishing it will go away, but nothing's getting done
A shot heard 'round the world, when a mother's baby dies
We the people, point our fingers, blame and wonder why
Face it and fight or turn high tail and run
'Til it comes back again just like the rising sun
Say they do all they can, it's just another lie
The answer's plain to see, nobody wants to try
There's no recess and no rules in the school of life
If you listen very closely you'll see what it's like
Have cool, will travel
Tell myself it ain't true, they just cannot see
Grown up or sewn up, the medicine's worse then the disease
I have cool, will travel
Here we goUp here in the land of the hot-dog stand
The atom bomb and the Good Humor Man
We think our South American neighbors are grand
We love 'em to beat the band
South America, baba-loo, baba-loo, ay-ee-eh, baba-loo
One favor you can do, ay-ee-eh, you can do
You beautiful lands below
Don't know what you began
To put it plainly, I'm tired of shakin'
To that Pan-American plan
Take back your Samba, ay!, your Rumba, ay!, your Conga, ay-yi-yi!
I can't keep movin', ay!, my chassis, ay!, any longer, ay-yi-yi!
Now maybe Latins, ay!, in their middles, ay!, are built stronger, ay-yi-yi!
But all this takin' to the quakin' and this makin' with the shakin' leaves me achin', olé!
First shake around and settle there
Then you shake around and settle here
Then you shake around and settle there
That's enough, that's enough
Take it back, my spine's outta-whack
There's a strange click-clack
In the back of my sacroilliac
Take back your Conga, ay!, your Samba, ay!, your Rumba, ay-yi-yi!
Why can't you send us, ay!, a less strenu-, ay!, -ous number, ay-yi-yi!
I got more bumps now, ay!, than on a, ay!, cucumber, ay-yi-yi!
While all those Latin drums are cloppin', like a Jumpin' Jack I'm hoppin' without stoppin', olé!
South America, take it away
First you shake around and settle there (where?)
Then you shake around and settle here (oh, there)
And then you shake around and settle there (why Bing!)
That's enough, that's enough
Take it back, my spine's outta-whack
There's a strange click-clack
In the back of my sacroilliac
Oh, my achin' back
Take back your Conga, ay!, your Samba, ay!, your Rumba, ay-yi-yi!
Bring back the old days, ay!, of dancing I remember, ay-yi-yi!
My hips are cracking, I am shrieking "Ay-Carumba!", ay-yi-yi!
I got a wriggle and a diddle and a jiggle like a fiddle in my middle, olé!
Thi