(SPOKEN IN A SING-SONG PATTER RATHER THAN SUNG)



Gather 'round, cats, and I'll tell you a story

About how to become an All American Boy

Buy you a gittar and put it in tune

You'll be rockin' and rollin' soon.

Impressin' the girls, pickin' hot licks, and all that jazz



I-I bought me a gittar a year ago

Learned how to play in a day or so

And all around town it was well understood

That I was knockin' 'em out like Johnny B. Goode

Hot licks, showin' off, ah number one.



Well , I 'd practice all day and up into the night

My papa's hair was turnin' white

Cause he didn't like rock'n'roll

He said "You can stay, boy, but that's gotta go."

He's a square, he just didn't dig me at all



So I took my gittar, picks and all

And bid farewell to my poor ole pa

And I split for Memphis where they say all

Them swingin' cats are havin' a ball

Sessions, hot licks and all, they dig me



I was rockin' and boppin' and I's a gettin' the breaks

The girls all said that I had what it takes

When up stepped a man with a big cigar

He said "come here, cat--I'm gonnna make you a star."

"I'll put you on Bandstand, buy ya a Cadillac, sign here, kid."



I signed my name and became a star

Havin' a ball with my gittar

Driving a big long Cadillac and fightin' the girls off ma back

They just kept a'comin', screamin', yeah-they like it



So I'd pick my gittar with a great big grin

And the money just kept on pourin' in

But then one day my Uncle Sam

He said (sound of 3 footsteps) "Here I am"

"Uncle Sam needs you, boy

I'm-a gonna cut your hair

ah-Take this rifle, kid

Gimme that gittar" yeah.