We Hold these Truths to be self evident
That nobody wants to hear the opener
And the elevator is only for the National Acts......The Year that I turned 13
I had this lick stuck in my head
I hid that transistor radio
Underneath a pillow of evaporating innocence
Saved up all my money cutting grass
And bought a sunburst Telecaster
Practiced Practiced Practiced
And never got any faster
Still i kept pushin pushin
Hung dead rockstars on my corked wall
And drowned my insecurities
In nicotine and alcohol
I bought sheet music by the pound
But it never held the answers
I couldn't find the formula
To get my band to play for
The Solid Gold Dancers
I was stung burned and branded
By sounds that were alien
To ears that were not open to receive
The glorious transmissions of Freedom
That three chords
And a Guttural Howl could produce
I was gone baby
And there was no going back
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