It's Only Got Four Strings

Most memoirs on Rock N Roll repeat the same old song and dance.

Our hero/heroine is born under a bad sign, starving for their art and living on a prayer.

Until chance or circumstance thrusts them into the limelight.

Everything is rainbows, sold out shows and riches from platinum discs.

Until they succumb to the excesses of success.

After a few stabs at rehab, they get addicted to brown rice and wheatgrass

Then its time to clean up on the victory lap comeback world tour

And roll credits....

Howe...