Love and Death and an American Guitar

[Spoken/Screamed: Jim Steinman]
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 power-chords
And the precise angle from which to strike
The guitar bled for about a week afterward 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 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 parent's 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 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"