[Witty]

When he first got it he couldn't play one single chord
but from day one it became what he loved and adored
And when they weren't together he was lovesick and bored
Occasionally he'd play something that made his heart thump
And he'd jump to record
Before it faded to black, forgotten in time, gone to the void
He went from a lost little boy to an artist full of blossoming joy
He went to the classes, studied Hendrix and Clapton..at first an imitation
But invented his path with his thirst and innovation
Researched their limitations and intended to pass them
But first..a little patience
He knew work was the way to birth his liberation.

Now he's getting blinded by the lights on the stage
The lights in the crowd
His days have got hectic and his nights have got loud
In demand from award shows to radio stations
He plays to the nation and bathes in their crazy ovation
He's leaving the stage, and he heads for the door
But they're screaming his name and they're begging for more
In a haze he obeys them...
And day after day it's just industry stuff
There's very little time for just him and his love
Very little time to create and to grow
They don't want the new...just play what they know
So he plays to placate them...
His privacy and space starts to fade from this crazy invasion
He hears their screams in his sleep...he may need sedation
Just a little...something...to soothe him
A little...something...to stave off the alienation.

Now the screaming has ceased
No crowds, no fame...just me and this grief
I remember his eyes, I remember his smile
Some memories nice, some memories vile
I remember placing that guitar in his hands
I remember him working like crazy, starting his band
The vibrance that sprayed from his pores when he played
The pride that he placed in each chord that he made
I can still see him hunched over his love...lost in his head
And I can see him laying cold on his hospital bed
I try to erase all the pain, and fill my mind with the joy
To you he was an icon...to me, he was just my little boy.

So I keep this guitar, I sleep with it, take it everywhere
...Display it with pride
I've never plucked a string, the music's playing inside
I just grip it like he gripped my hand on the day he was born...
...And like I gripped his on the day that he died.