I REMEMBER EEEEVEERRRYYYYYTHIIIIIINGGG!!!!!!
I remember every little thing as if it happened only yesterday.
I was barely seventeen, and I once
I don’t remember if it was a Telecaster, or a Stratocaster, but I
Remember that it had a HEART of chrome, and a
I don’t remember if it was a Telecaster or a Stratocaster, but I do remember that it wasn’t at all
it required the perfect combination of the right power chords, and the
precise angle from which to STRRRRIIIIKE!
The guitar bled for about a week afterwards, and the blood was,
the Blood of the Guitar was Chuck. Berry. Red. The guitar bled for about a week afterwards, but it rung out beautifully, and I was able to play notes that I had
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
Nineteen-eighty-one HARLEY DAVIDSON.
the Harley howled in paaaiiiinnn.
the guitar howled in heat.
and I ran up the stairs to my parents’ bedroom.
Mommy and Daddy were sleeping… in the moonlight.
I opened the door, creeping in the shadows,
right up to the foot of their bed.
Just as I was about to bring the guitar cRaShInG down upon the center of the bed, my father woke up screaming:
Wait a minute, stop it, boy! What do you think you’re doing?
That’s no way to treat an
expensive musical instrument.
but you’ve got a HELL of a lot to learn about ROCK ‘N’ ROOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!