Used to have a red guitar
Till I smashed it one drunk night
Smashed it in the classic form
As Peter Townshend might

Threw it in the fireplace
I left it there a while
Kate, she started crying
When she saw my sorry smile

Red guitar was made of wood
Could not take the heat
Red guitar, it caught on fire
And the damage was complete

It burned until all that was left
Was six pegs and six strings
Kate, she said, "You are a fool
You've done a foolish thing."

Placed the remains in the case
And I put the case away
Went to New York City
For a new guitar the next day

I bought myself a blond guitar
I had it for three days
Some junkie stole my blond guitar
God works in wondrous ways