Chuck Berry goes, down the road apiece.

Promised Land.

How many a dreamy eyed wanna-be Rock star?
How many a shaggy haired raggedy jeaned T-shirted teen
Has plugged in their second hand but so precious guitar
And ripped into ‘Johnny B. Goode’, ‘Carol’ or ‘Maybeline’?
Or ‘Roll Over Beethoven’, ‘Come On’ or ‘Sweet little Sixteen’?
Or ‘Memphis’, ‘Almost Grown’,’Little Queenie’ or ‘Nadine’?

Whenever, wherever a hot band scorches some roadside bar
Within every blazing riff Chuck Berry’s spirit is heard and seen,
It would be a so much quieter and even sadder world by far
If Chuck Berry and his God given Gibson had never been.

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