While on the ground a passenger said from the seat behind me, my God, they're throwing guitars out there.

The band and I exchanged a look, best described as terror, at the action on the tarmac and knowing whose projectiles these would be.

So before I left Chicago, I alerted three employees who showed complete indifference towards me.

United.

You broke my Taylor guitar.

United.

Some big help you are.

You broke it, you should fix it, your libel just admit it.

I should have flown with someone else or gone by car.

Cause United breaks guitars.

When we landed in Nebraska I confirmed what I suspected.

Mike Taylor'd been the victim of a vicious act of malice and old hater.

So began a year-long saga, but past the buck don't ask me and I'm sorry sir, your claim can go nowhere.

So do all the airline's people from New York to New Delhi, including kind Miss Earl Wig who says the final word from them is no.

I've heard all your excuses and I've chased your wild gooses, and this attitude of yours I say must go.

United.

You broke my Taylor guitar.

United.

United.

Some big help you are.

You broke it, you should fix it, your libel just admit it.

I should have flown with someone else or gone by car.

Cause United breaks guitars.

Well I won't say that I'll never fly with you again, cause maybe to save the world I probably would, but that most likely haven't.

And if it did I wouldn't bring my luggage, cause you'd just go and break it into a thousand pieces, just like you broke my heart.

When United breaks guitars.

United.

United.

You broke my Taylor guitar.

United.

United.

Some big help you are.

You broke it, you should fix it, your libel just admit it.

I should have flown with someone else or gone by car.

Cause United breaks guitars.

Yeah, United breaks guitars.

Yeah, United breaks guitars.

Yeah.