Ozzy Osbourne. I Don't Know. 1981.

Hey bros, Spring is in the air. It's time to roll down your windows and crank this fucker all the way up 'til yer Rockford Fosgates sound gassy. This is the soundtrack to the Arcade parking lot, the smoking corner and the lunch hour dash to the scenic overlook all rolled into one. This is the type of blitzkrieg guitar wizardry you feel deep down in your old balls. The kind of shit that makes you drop your blazing hot proto pipe under your seat after buying fireworks in some po-dunk, shit hole Wisconsin town.

See ya at the high bridge fuckers!