Wasted Youth! Wasted Youth!
[spoken]:
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 Stradacaster
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 Stratacaster
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 Sough 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 Upto 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 Expensive Musical Instrument!"
And I Said: "God Damn It Daddy!
You Know I Love You, But You Got A Hell Of A Lot To Learn About Rock 'n Roll"