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 so 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 beautiful, 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!, I smashed it against the hood of a car!, I 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...
Mommy 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! stupid boy! what do you think you're doing?
That's no way to treat an expensive musical instrument!"
And I said: "goddammit daddy!... you know I love you... but you've got a hell of a lot to learn about rock and roll!!!!!!"
Etiquetas: Fiosofía rockera
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