PFC Michael Pearson, Fallen Strat-o-Brother R.I.P.

I subscribe to Google News Alerts for the term "Stratocaster".

Today's alerts included one with the following text:

"...training to deactivate bombs and was known for his nimble fingers on his Fender Stratocaster guitar..."

The above snippet refers to Pfc. Michael Pearson of Bolingbrook, Illinois, a victim of the recent Fort Hood shooting spree.

Below are more items about Michael collected from various news stories around the web:

"...Michael Pearson, 22, enlisted in the Army more than a year ago to realize his musical dream. He hoped the military would be his path to college, where he could study musical theory, his brother Kristopher Craig told CNN affiliate WGN-TV in Chicago, Illinois.

"He was a genius as far as we were concerned," Craig told WGN-TV, reeling from the news that his 21-year-old "little kid brother" was dead.

"He was really living his life playing guitar," Craig said. "When he picked up a guitar, we all understood that he was expressing himself."

"One relative said Pvt Pearson played the guitar like Jimi Hendrix, and he had taught himself to play the piano..."

"...training to deactivate bombs and was known for his nimble fingers on his Fender Stratocaster guitar..."

Dedicated to Private First Class Michael Pearson and all those recently murdered and injured at Ft. Hood.



Machine Gun
Tearing my body all apart

Machine Gun, yeah
Tearing my body all apart

Evil man make me kill ya
Evil man make you kill me
Evil man make me kill you
Even though we’re only families apart

Well I pick up my axe and fight like a farmer
(You know what I mean)
Hey! And your bullets keep knocking me down

Hey, I pick up my axe and fight like a farmer now
Yeah, but you still blast me down to the ground

The same way you shoot me down, baby
You’ll be going just the same
Three times the pain,
and your own self to blame
Hey, Machine Gun

I ain’t afraid of your mess no more, babe
I ain’t afraid no more
After a while, your, your cheap talk don’t even cause me pain,
so let your bullets fly like rain

’Cause I know all the time you’re wrong baby
And you’ll be going just the same
Yeah, Machine Gun
Tearing my family apart
Yeah, yeah, alright
Tearing my family apart

(Don’t you shoot him down)
(He’s ’bout to leave here)
(Don’t you shoot him down)
(He’s got to stay here)
(He ain’t going nowhere)
(He’s been shot down to the ground)
(Oh where he can’t survive, no, no)

Yeah, that’s what we don’t wanna hear anymore, alright?
(No bullets)
At least here, huh huh
(No guns, no bombs)
Huh huh
(No nothin’, just let’s all live and live)
(You know, instead of killin’) Jimi Hendrix, Filmore East

!