NO MA'AM [INTRO — MALE, deep raspy rock voice] Who’s the man with the sharpest tongue? Who’s the king of the sofa throne? Who turns every question into a roast— And still doesn't get left alone? [FEMALE — smug, teasing setup] Al, do you think I'm getting fat? [MALE — deadpan] Getting? [BAND CRASH] [CHORUS — MALE LEAD + MALE GANG VOCALS] NO MA'AM! Not another bite, not another ham! NO MA'AM! Al's about to roast you and he doesn't give a damn! From the sofa to the living-room floor, He's heard that stupid question before— NO! NO! NO! NO MA'AM! [FEMALE — setup] Al, does this dress make me look big? [MALE — dry, immediate] Peggy, the dress is innocent... [GUITAR RIFF] [FEMALE — setup] Do you think I should order dessert? [MALE] Sure. If the menu comes with a forklift. [CHORUS — MALE + GANG] NO MA'AM! We're talking Bundy, loud and grand! NO MA'AM! The last defender of the average man! He's got no money, no respect, But every roast lands perfect— NO! NO! NO! NO MA'AM! [FEMALE — setup, offended] Are you saying I'm overweight? [MALE — solemnly] I'm saying the bathroom scale has begun to negotiate... [FEMALE — setup] Al, should I wear something tighter? [MALE] Only if you're trying to make the neighbors file a restraining order. [FEMALE — setup] Do you think I eat too much? [MALE — pause] I think the refrigerator is terrified when you approach. [DRUM FILL] [BRIDGE — MALE, almost reverent] A hero in a world gone insane! A battered king who won't be changed! With one-liners loaded, sharp as a knife, He roasted every fat chick in sight! No fancy car— No grand accolades— Just a worn-out couch And jokes to rain on your parade! But when the question comes from across the room— [FEMALE — setup] Al... do I look fat? [MALE — HUGE PAUSE] Ma'am... [FULL BAND EXPLOSION] NO MA'AM! [FINAL CHORUS — BIGGER, FASTER] NO MA'AM! Raise your beer and take a stand! NO MA'AM! Bundy's got the last word in his hand! Broke and tired, but standing tall, The average hero for us all! He's broke, he's tired, he's misunderstood— [MALE — SHOUTED] BUT HE'S STILL THE REALIST MOTHER FUCKER IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD! [GANG VOCALS] NO! MA'AM! NO! MA'AM! NO! MA'AM! [MALE — spoken, exhausted] Now somebody get me my remote... [GUITAR STING] NO MA'AM!
