Alice Cooper's Nightmare on Surf Street

Hey Beachfront Vinny Daverino Hey, yo, man This is Alice Cooper Don't go to sleep And have a nightmare about Dick Dale's silver whammy bar You are the new king of the surf guitar Remember Use the twang, Dave Use the twang Keep surfing Beachfront Vinny Now I have a story that I'm scared to tell About surf rock purists who put me through hell They try to gaslight me so that I've got no self worth Because I added vocals Trap beats And called it surf The silver whammy bar I'm twanging every single day And even when I lost the whammy bar I twang it anyway They say that Beachfront Vinny is in full surf retreat Recording this track is a nightmare On surf street It was sometime after Dick Dale died alright An old strange man at the Surf Spot one night As I checked the door While still in my pajammy Opened up the envelope to find a pure silver whammy He said nothing Then the cell phone buzzed Bugging me cause It was a crazy audio track The phone vibration and I just checked to see It was a text from dead Dick Dale to me He said, Vinny My surf guitar student Here's my silver whammy bar I hope you will use it The surf purists are out for your defeat That began the nightmare On surf street It was buzzing on the E, like a mother You never even met Dick Dale I knew his brother I checked the Jag Didn't see the whammy bar I searched the Surf Spot And every surf guitar I went outside And I was trapped in a wave Lost the surf contest To a mammacita beach babe Then this awful voice came at me from afar and said You lost the surf contest now you lost the whammy bar I wiped out before I got on my board Screamed out, what do I need a silver whammy bar for Got half way down the boardwalk and I had some trouble breathing Said, how embarrassing I went ten yards, if even Strolled to the beach and said I'll take your surf challenge Nervously laughed, ha ha Like Jimmy Fallon Got on my board Beachfront Vinny D Then thirty foot swells came crashing down on me And from beyond Dick Dale said Use reverb and twang Surf like I taught you Then just hang The surf music genre You will never belong You're more like Frank Zappa Weird Al Cheech and Chong Hey Dick, I think you gotta remember I'd never join a genre that would have me as a member Look, I'm a comic No one cares what I said The people want vocals and the surf genre's dead I pat him on the back and said thank you, king of surf Then opened up the door and said must get back to work He got mad, took out his fender Smashed his guitar, I said Hey look There's the silver whammy bar This wasn't a dream man Dick Dale was for real, he said Sign your name here for this surf recording deal No further words and then I bolted upstairs Screamed for help, pulled what's left of my hair Pulled a swig of stale diet ginger ale and wailed No one cares about me or Dick Dale He started to scream and surf his fender guitar And then twanged it As my alarm went off and then Reverb It was the end of the song, I said Now who's Cheech and Chong Then I saw the Fender Jazz at my feet And that was proof that there had been a nightmare on surf street