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A cover of a Bobby Bare Jr's song. I've changed three words.
lyrics
This letter is addressed to Mr. Pete Townsend
Hey brother I write you to say thanks for nothing,
Your generation used up all the feelings
And if we rock, it looks like we're ripping you off.
Hey Mr. Jimmy as I write upon this page,
My hand's they shake with a delicate rage.
My amplifier has no aim
For all that it plays sounds derivative and mundane
So dig on down, dig down - the lost and found
The Beatles devoured all there was to be found
Dig down, dig down - the lost and found
Nothing green can gather on a rolling stone
Dig down, dig on down.
To whom it may concern for all Hendrix had spurned
The rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air
My fender is just a painted board,
and if I light it on fire, I become such a fucking bore.
Black Francis, Black Francis you were the last motherfucker out
Grabbing all the good stuff and leaving no doubt
That if rock and roll dies, it's not my fault
I do the best with the leftovers that I got
So dig on down, dig down - the lost and found
The Beatles devoured all there was to be found
Dig down, dig down - the lost and found
Nothing green can gather on a rolling stone
Dig down, dig on down.
All of the juice had been sucked out
Before Mel Bay taught us children to play
So as we climb upon the rotting corpse
Stick it in once again to see if the blood will course
Chuck Berry, Chuck Berry you wrote the only original song
Some white boys stole it, we all still sing along
Chuck Berry sing to us one more time
Before Clear Channel freezes everybody's mind
So dig on down, dig down - the lost and found
The Beatles devoured all there was to be found
Dig down, dig down - the lost and found
Nothing green can gather on a rolling stone
Dig down, dig on down.
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