when i was young my father taught me not to gloat. if i came home too proud of myself i get wrestled to the floor and choked. but i forgive him for that. he was an eighth grade drop out and i was being a brat. i forgive him
some like the trombone and i live by that rule. your trip is your trip and my trip is my trip too. yeah
having no rules in my friend here have. i love my dad. your kid goes to the private berkley school with one black kid. my kid goes to the public school
came home with cracked ribs. and when my kid's eighteen he'll be out there like i was and probably chasing his dreams. and when your kid's twenty-two
he'll have an internship at a law firm and hey that's okay too. when i was five i came home from kindergarten crying cause they sat me next to an albino. my dad said son everyone's different
they only come out at night by edgar winter. when i was young my dad taught me the beauty of patience. we'd go and hang with his friend billy brislin all day in his stubenville basement. we'd watch wrestling matches on tv and billy couldn't move cause he was handicapped. and i learned to shoot the shit
and how to care for those in need and to show respect. when i was a kid my dad brought home a guitar he got from sears. i took lessons from a neighbor lady but it wasn't going anywhere. he went and got me a good teacher and in no time at all i was getting better. i can play just fine. i still practice a lot but not as much as nels cline. when i was young my dad told me to pay gossip no mind. when people talk bad on you you gotta flick it off your shoulder like a fly. learn to pick your punches