Another linked a street entertainer in Brazil during the World Cup. Please, I ask you, stick with it until the end. The guitar riff at 5:45 takes off impressively, an improvement, I think, over the original.
The thing is, this guitar looks exactly like the guitar my dad bought us kids overseas. Just handed it over and said, "Here." He allowed us to plug it into his stereo hifi for an amp, his pride and joy, that we played records on endlessly. The record player lifted out of the cabinet and extended toward the person kneeling in front of it presenting itself for you to set the stylus anywhere you like. We went through styluses like nobody's business. We ruined it, of course, playing Simon and the Chipmunks over and over. How he stood the racket of five children is beyond me, but he did. Liked it, in fact. Could not tolerate silence. He was the type who abhorred being alone. Never was alone, always took along at least one of kids with him wherever he went. Usually two or three. None of us could do anything with that guitar except hurt our fingers, break strings and snap picks. Not even House of the Rising Sun, which is like, what, four notes? We couldn't even tune it, and we tried. I'm going to ask my sibs what happened to that guitar. One of them still has it, I'm certain of that.
