Love and Death and an American Guitar
I remember everything!
I remember every little thing as if it happened only yesterday.
I was barely seventeen, and I once killed a boy with a Fender guitar.
I don't remember if it was a telecaster or a stratocaster.
But I do remember that it had a heart of chrome and a voice like a horny angel
I don't remember if it was a telecaster or a stratocaster
But I do remember that it wasn't at all easy
It required the perfect combination of the right power chords
And the precise angle from which to strike
The guitar bled for about a week afterward
And the blood was dark and rich, like wild berries.
The blood of the guitar was Chuck Berry red
The guitar bled for about a week afterward, but it rung out beautifully
And I was able to play notes that I had never even heard before.
So, I took my guitar, and I smashed it against the wall!
I smashed it against the floor!
I smashed it against the body of a varsity cheerleader!
Smashed it against the hood of a car
Smashed it against a 1981 Harley Davidson!
The Harley howled in pain, the guitar howled in heat!
And I ran up the stairs to my parents' bedroom.
Mummy and daddy were sleeping in the moonlight
Slowly I opened the door, creeping in the shadows
Right up to the foot of their bed
I raised the guitar high above my head
And just as I was about to bring the guitar crashing down
upon the centre of the bed, my father woke up, screaming
"Stop!" "Wait a minute!
Stop it boy!
What do ya think you're doin'!?
That's no way to treat an exspensive muscial instrument!
And I said: "God dammit daddy!
You know I love you. But you got a hell of a lot to learn about rock an' roll!".
If you can tell me who wrote this, I'll give you a big sloppy kiss, unless you're a dude.
I remember everything!
I remember every little thing as if it happened only yesterday.
I was barely seventeen, and I once killed a boy with a Fender guitar.
I don't remember if it was a telecaster or a stratocaster.
But I do remember that it had a heart of chrome and a voice like a horny angel
I don't remember if it was a telecaster or a stratocaster
But I do remember that it wasn't at all easy
It required the perfect combination of the right power chords
And the precise angle from which to strike
The guitar bled for about a week afterward
And the blood was dark and rich, like wild berries.
The blood of the guitar was Chuck Berry red
The guitar bled for about a week afterward, but it rung out beautifully
And I was able to play notes that I had never even heard before.
So, I took my guitar, and I smashed it against the wall!
I smashed it against the floor!
I smashed it against the body of a varsity cheerleader!
Smashed it against the hood of a car
Smashed it against a 1981 Harley Davidson!
The Harley howled in pain, the guitar howled in heat!
And I ran up the stairs to my parents' bedroom.
Mummy and daddy were sleeping in the moonlight
Slowly I opened the door, creeping in the shadows
Right up to the foot of their bed
I raised the guitar high above my head
And just as I was about to bring the guitar crashing down
upon the centre of the bed, my father woke up, screaming
"Stop!" "Wait a minute!
Stop it boy!
What do ya think you're doin'!?
That's no way to treat an exspensive muscial instrument!
And I said: "God dammit daddy!
You know I love you. But you got a hell of a lot to learn about rock an' roll!".
If you can tell me who wrote this, I'll give you a big sloppy kiss, unless you're a dude.
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
epiphany:
You've been just as M.I.A. as I've been! Things are busy, busy and to top it all off we're in the process of buying a house! Egads! Hope you are doing well and that you have a happy easter! Miss ya!
motherteresa:
But, you're not a lady