John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
John Parr
There comes a time
In every young boy's life
When he takes in his hand for the first time
And holds it like a wife
Up there in his bedroom
Full of dreams and fantasies
I guess a boy can't help himself
Doin' what comes naturally
Practice every day
That's what my Dad would say
You gotta practice boy
If you go what it takes
You know practice makes
Just practice boy
Teasin' it squeezin' it
For all it was worth
Strummin' it lovin' it
I gotta be first
Practice every day
That's what my Dad would say
You gotta practice boy
If you got what it takes
You know what practice makes
P-E-R-F-E-C-T
He's good enough for me
Other kids were duckin' school
Playin' football playin' the fool
I was up there in my bedroom
Bangin' out those twelve bar blues
Practice every day
That's what my Dad would say
You gotta practice boy
If you go what it takes
You know practice makes
Just practice boy
P-E-R-F-E-C-T
He's good enough for me
Practice was written by John Parr.