Daydream

Staring at the wall with a pen in my hand,

Looking for a riff that can shake up the land.

No distortion, just the wire and the wood,

Trying to be evil, trying to be good.

My fingers are twitching, my brain is on fire,

Building a ladder out of copper and wire.

It's a rhythmic hunger, a six-string soul,

Turning this folk song into something out of control.

(Something out of control...)

Oh, give me that face-melting sound,

No electric plug to be found!

Just the vibration of the hollow wood chest,

Putting the acoustic to the ultimate test.

Shredding the sunlight, burning the air,

With a wooden guitar and a whole lot of flair!

A whole lot of flair!

I found a lick that sounds like a scream,

Waking me up from this rhythmic dream.

Fast as a bullet, clean as a bell,

Breaking out of this folk-song shell.

My calloused thumbs are dancing on the frets,

Cashing in all of my six-string bets.

Can you feel the heat? Can you see the light?

I'm writing the solo of a lifetime tonight.

Oh, give me that face-melting sound,

No electric plug to be found!

Just the vibration of the hollow wood chest,

Putting the acoustic to the ultimate test.

Shredding the sunlight, burning the air,

With a wooden guitar and a whole lot of flair!

A whole lot of flair!

Yeah... that'll do it. Get gone.