Aimee Mann's new album, Mental Illness, comes out Spring 2017.
I wanted to write about Trump in the first person because I think it's more interesting to speculate on what people’s inner life might be. I had heard a theory that Trump’s interest in running for President was really kicked off at the 2011 White House Correspondent’s dinner when President Obama basically roasted him, so that’s where I started. And my own feeling was that it wasn’t really the job itself he wanted, but the thrill of running and winning, and that maybe it had all gotten out of hand and was a runaway train that he couldn’t stop.
That bastard making fun of me in front of all my peers Those people think I own this town, you’re stripping all my gears Well guess what Mr. President, I’ll be seeing you In four years Though on the campaign trail the papers paint me like a clown Still all I see are crowds who want to fit me for a crown I point out all my enemies just so my fans Bring them down Isn’t anybody going to stop me? I don’t want this job I don’t want this job, my god Can’t you tell I’m unwell You try to pin me down but you don’t really try that hard I throw out any shit I want and no one trumps that card So dazzled and distracted by your fantasy Of Hildegard Isn’t anybody going to stop me? I don’t want this job I don’t want this job, my god Can’t you tell I’m unwell You ask about my plan but baby my plan is to win I wind up all the tops and watch the others keep the spin You handing me grenades is just compelling me To pull the pin Isn’t anybody going to stop me? I don’t want this job I can’t do this job, my god Can’t you tell I’m unwell -- Recorded and Mixed by Paul Bryan at Mayberry PCH Mastered by Jeff Lipton & Maria Rice at Peerless Mastering Aimee Mann-- guitar, piano, vocal Paul Bryan-- bass, background vocal Rusty Anderson-- electric guitar Abe Rounds-- drums and percussion