song lyrics for a saturday, part 3

I started listening to metal when I was in 2nd or 3rd grade. An early start, I know. At the time, my favorite artists were Ozzy Osbourne and Led Zeppelin. My interest in the former, with his reputation for being a devil worshiper, did not sit well with my parents. So, for most of my childhood and adolescence, we fought over my music. The arguments and negative comments didn't stop until I was in my 20's, actually. Anyway, most of the heat came from my dad, who would yell at me, confiscate my tapes (and later, CDs) and, in some cases, smash them. On more than one occasion, I would wake up in the morning and find him rifling through my music collection. When CD stores started to buy back used CDs, he took me to the local shop more than once and made me sell the majority of my CDs--most of which I would buy again at a later date. The older I got, the more I craved music that was faster, heavier and more distorted. Naturally, this didn't help my relationship with my parents. My insistence on playing only heavy music on my guitar and occasionally blasting "cookie monster", death metal-esque guttural vocals through my guitar amplifier (usually combined with echo, for an especially sinister effect) didn't help matters, either. More than anything, my dad hated it when I'd make the guttural sounds to scare him when he was walking down the hall in the dark. Good times.

Before I go on, I should probably mention that I'm not bitter about the way my parents handled their disagreements with my music. They were doing what they thought was right, and it's not like they beat me in the process or anything like that. They were the parents, I was the child, and ultimately, they had the upper hand--most parents do. In the end, I think I turned out OK. I never had any interest in the lifestyles of the musicians to which I listened, and I like taking showers, either way. I just happen(ed) to be a nerd who likes extreme music. Now, back to the story...

We decided to go to Utah to visit my grandparents for Thanksgiving one year, probably around 1989. At the time, Ozzy Osbourne's "No Rest for the Wicked" was my favorite tape. I'm pretty sure that my older brother told my dad I was listening to "devil worshiper" music, because as I was laying on the floor in my grandparents' basement, rockin' my favorite tunes and minding my own business, my dad came down in a fury, ripped my Walkman away from me, took the tape out and snapped it in half with his hands. That was a dark day for me, and to this day, I'm still reminded of it more than anything else when I listen to "No Rest for the Wicked". I was listening to it again the other day, and here are the lyrics for what has long been my favorite song on the album, "Breaking All The Rules":

Well I know
I could be just another stranger
But to you
I guess I'm just another fool
And you swear
You like to live your life in danger
Then you hide
Behind a wall of silly rules

Nobody thinks the way I do
I guess that nobody cares
Your head's so full of things, so set your mind free of them
I'm breaking the rules

Did you know
That in the truth, there's nothing stranger
I suppose
You think I think I know it all

Nobody hears the things I say
I guess that nobody cares
My head's so full of things I set my mind free of them I'm breaking the rules
Breaking all the rules
Cant you see they're nothing without you
Empty heads full of fools
Now you see
I'm breaking all the rules, breakin' all the rules

Well I know
That you would love to go to heaven
But you know
That you're just too afraid to die
And I know
That you would love to know the answers
But to you
The truth is just another lie