Jim Steinman Love And Death And 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 agianst 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!!!!!"
