Uncle Phil fought in the Pacific. He brought back his blood covered bayonet as a souvenir.
He taught me how to drive. While learning, I came up behind another car. He told me to hit the brake. I didn’t do anything. He yelled again to hit the brake. Still I did nothing. In desperation and panic he reached for the brake pedal with his hand. that’s when I finally shoved on the brake…with his hand underneath my foot.
My guitar music at:
f3music (type in gary rodriguez)
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