Love and Death and an American Guitar

I remember everything I remember every little thing as if it happened only yesterday I was barely 17 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 powerchords And the precise angle from which to strike The guitar bled for about a week afterwards and the blood was Ooh... Dark and rich like wild berries The blood of the guitar was Chuck Berry red The guitar bled for about a week afterwards and 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 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! 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 the bed I raised my 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 you're 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 got a hell of a lot to learn about rock and roll"