Wasted Youth

Wasted youth

Wasted youth

I remember everything!

I remember everything little thing, as if it happened 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 combanation of the right power chords

And the percise angel from which to strike!

The guitar bled for about a week afterwords

And the blood was zoot, dark and rich, like wild berrys

The blood of the guitar was chuck berry red

The guitar bled for about a week afterwords

But it rung out beautifly

And i was able to play notes that i had never even heard before

So i took my guitar

And i smashed it aganist the wall

I smashed it aganist the floor

I smashed it aganist the body of a varisty cheerleader

Smashed it aganist the hood of a car

Smasned it aganist a 1981 harley-davaidson

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 center of the bed

My father woke up, screaming ＂stop!＂

＂wait a minute. stop it boy. what do you think your doing?＂

＂that＇s no way to treat an expensive musical instrument＂

And i said, ＂god damn it daddy,＂

＂you know i love you, but you＇ve got a hell of a lot to learn about rock n＇ roll＂