Lyrics & Music by Wayne Beauchamp. Copyright Control.
Well, not too long ago, I remember sneekin’ out
to watch this cat play rock ‘n’ roll on the other side of town
he drove a big fat chevy, cherry red and chrome
and at the dance hall every friday you’d see this cat explode
in dungarees and sneakers and a guitar in his hand
he rolled a red hot boogie in his rockabilly band
One cold and frosty evening not half a mile away
while drivin’ to the dance hall in his chevrolet
when he saw the shadow of a figure in the night
he missed the kid but wrecked the car, the impact took his life
they buried what remained of him in the church yard in our town
but rebels never die even when they’re underground
Now I’m not superstitious but this I can’t explain
the sound of piercing guitar with familiar refrain
wild strummin’ in the graveyard, he always played with soul
that’s all that he’s got left now and a box of shakin’ bones
he’s still a rockin’ rebel who never goes to bed
still rockin’ after midnight loud enough to wake the dead
BONESHAKER he’s buried six foot deep
BONESHAKER with a guitar at his feet
BONESHAKER his soul won’t rest in peace
with his body that’s buried in a wooden case
BONESHAKER, BONESHAKER, BONESHAKER, BONESHAKER.