Just Like Hank!
I took all the money I had underneath the bed
And went and bought a Fender, in fiesta red
A Fender Stratocaster, was the guitar's full name
The birdseye maple neck had a quare good flame.
She had three pickups and a tremolo arm
That could take out your eye and do you harm
The man said she was "contoured" to make her easier to play
As he counted out my money and then put it away.
She came in a case that was long and thin
I think it was made from aligator skin
Cellophane covered all the plastic parts
The man said,"That guitar son, she gonna break some hearts."
So I went home with my Fender Stratocaster
Soon I would turn her into a ghetto blaster.
But when I began to play, I felt just like a ninny
The sound was weak and oh so very tinny.
The man said, "Son, you gotta have an amp."
Pointing to a Vox that was sitting on a ramp.
I said I had no money, the man said "Leave that to me."
And signed me up for 10 years to the old HP.
Now I could make a noise, but I didn't sound like Hank
So with cap in hand, I headed for the bank.
I got a Binson echo chamber, with a wee green light
Now the notes went on forever, until they were out of sight.
I tried to play Apache, but I didn't sound like Hank
And a man in a suit chased me out off the bank
My money was all gone and I was deep in debt
And then by chance my cousin on the street I met.
"Bosco, you're left-handed," my cousin he did say,
"So that guitar you got at home, you will never play."
So I packed my Fender, the Binson and the Vox
And took them to "Music City" in a great big box.
The man said, "Son, I'll give you a hundred pound
And that's the best deal son, you will get in town."
My heart was thumping, my head began to reel.
I cried, "Throw in a penny whistle and you got yourself a
I often play, Apache on the penny whistle and I still DON'T