Bob Dylan's Grandma - Diarrhea Planet

Back in the sixth grade

I heard 'Jimi Plays Monterey'

Boy, did I melt that tape

And let that cassette self-immolate

Pentatonic killing floor

Bob Dylan’s grandma holding down the twos and fours

Monolithic crates of vacuum tubes

From which every note rang true

It had been my dream to race F1 or fly F-16s

I’ve got the next best thing

To cut my teeth on these six strings

I’ll get a Stratocaster

And practice 'til my fingers bleed

The metronome ticks faster

Counting down from 9 to 3

Until my arthritic hands

Can’t paint the exit-in

If I don’t see the end…

If I don’t see the end

Throw my guitars into the Cumberland

Into the Cumberland

If I don’t see the end

Throw my guitars into the Cumberland