The Radio Shack

A boy of his time, I was happening
I was the future of the future of now
The demographicists had their golden eye on me
Everywhere I went, they ran to take a bow

But then the RadioShack became a Halloween store
The guitar magazines ain't really selling anymore
And a bank I never heard of stole the baseball park
The channels I loved all went dark
When I wasn't looking

With pegs on the axlеs and grease on the chain
I could gеt across the tracks in no time at all
With the right mix in the Walkman, I could roll all day
I would jump back up from the bloodiest fall

But then the RadioShack became a Halloween store
The guitar magazines ain't really selling anymore
The joints I never noticed start to stiffen and fade
I grew a little extra at the core
When I wasn't looking