Rock & Roll DIE?! Good Golly, Miss Molly, Nevah!
Suh, you may slander the Statue of Liberty, contravene the Constitution, sully the Supreme Court, spit on Star Trek AND Star Wars, deride the Democrats, ravage the Republicans, split infinitives, run with a stick in your hand, play with a bb gun, sit too close to the TV, chew with your mouth open, back talk your parents, rip the tags shamelessly off mattresses, engage in sex in the White House, discriminate against minority groups, stay up all night, forget to do your homework, skip school, pierce any part of your slack, emaciated pasty white raised-in-a-mineshaft heroin-chic body, pump your veins, your lungs or your stomach full of dangerous mind-altering, chromosome-destroying filthy unclean drugs, engage in unprotected sex with scrofulous low-rent hookers from the worst part of town, drive stone-blind drunk, corrupt minors, abuse animals, run power equipment without safety goggles, spew incompletely combusted hydrocarbons indiscriminately into the airshed from your rattletrap oil-dripping, rustbucket piece o’crap imported wheezer of an alleged automobile, pull the wings of flies, use politically uncorrect stereotypes, wear fur or carry an unlicensed handgun, but do not ever EVER think to imply that Rock & Roll will ever die.
As long as there are teenage hormones, zits, electric guitars and angst; as long as there are garages and parents who can be whined into supplying amplifiers and esoteric electronic effects boxes; as long as there are fans and roadies and groupies; as long as there are ripoff recording companies, managers who engage in multiyear suits and countersuits with members of the band; as long as there are arenas and shameless promoters who will hire people to remove all the green M&Ms from the mix backstage; as long as there are drug dealers, cheap rocksploitation films and imported car dealers, liquor shops and custom tour busses; as long as there are special effects wizards with their flashpots and rainstorms and curtains of fire; as long as there are sets full of artistic giant props and lewd stage acrobatics; as long as there are lead singers with incredibly wide mouths and thick lips; as long as there are cocky lead guitarists and bass players who never move; as long as there are people who will paint the band’s logo on the front of the bass drum; as long as there are no-talent three-chord bands who rocket to fortune and fame while truly gifted performers languish in cheap bars and low class clubsp as long as there are lyrics and sounds that annoy parents and passers-by, THERE WILL BE ROCK & ROLL.
Thankyew, thankyew verra much.