Surfed the internet.
Checked Real Deal Pawn.
Then some guy at "Never Fret"
gave me a deal on

A Fender Stratocaster.
1963
With alabaster frets
and new fangled gadgetry.

It modulated frequency. 
It even shifted phasing.
Had digitized memory
with syncopatic phrasing.

Gold plated input jacks
and pickups made it wail.
It even did my income tax
and took my voice mail.

There were a host of things
on that Fender guitar,
but the one I liked the most
was that little whammy bar.

It growled like a jungle cat.
It shrilled like a sparrow.
It howled, man that Fender Strat
chilled me to the marrow.

Of course I'd need an amp
to sound like Floyd or Tull,
and not some whimpy Fender Champ,
but a great big bad ass Marshall.

I took that sucker home.
How proudly I display it.
Makes everybody foam.
Someday I'll learn to play it.