All American Boy

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

'bout how to become an all-American Boy.

Just buy you a guitar and put it in tune

and you'll be a rockin and a rollin soon.

Impressin the girls, hittin hot licks, and all that jazz.

I bought me a guitar about a year ago and I

Learned how to play it in a day or so.

And all around town it was well understood

that I was knocking 'em out like Johnny B. Goode.

Hot licks, showing off, ah, number one.

Well I practiced all day and up into the night,

My papa's hair was a gettin kinda white.

He didn't dig that,ah, rock and roll.

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

He's a square; just didn't dig me at all.

So I packed my guitar, picks and all, and I said farewll to my poor old pa.

I split for Memphis where they say 'you all'

And them swinging cats are a havin a ball.

Yeah, they love me down there, guitar picks and all.

I was rocking and bopping and getting all the breaks,

And the girls all said that I had what it takes,

When up steps a man with a big cigar. He said. "Come here, kid.

I'm gonna make you a star."

Put you on "Bandstand', buy you a cadillac. Sign here, kid."

So I signed my name and became a star, having a ball with my guitar.

Driving a big, long cadillac. And fighting the girls off'n my back.

But they just keep a comin, screaming, they love it.

So I picked my guitar with a great big grin

And the money just kept on rollin in.

And then one day my Uncle Sam said (thump, thump, thump) "here I am!

Uncle Sam needs you, boy. Gimme that guitar. Take this rifle. Yeahhhh - gonna cut your hair off... .