Waltzing into Despair

Elliott Smith has been one of my favorite singer-songwriters since my college roommate first introduced me to him via his brilliant album Either/Or. (We used to get high/drunk and listen to his tightly composed tragic musings.) Tortured soul he was, but are not the most beautiful ones that way? Still, committing suicide by stabbing yourself through your chest is a rough way to go.

Listening to this song with a couple of my lovely friends tonight, I was reminded of his genius. RIP, you beautiful bastard. I’m never going to know you now, but I’m going to love you anyhow. 

Edited to add: I screwed up the lyrics. That is what I get for posting after a few beers.

About Bourbon Apocalypse: A Whiskey Son of Sorrow

"If you can't annoy somebody, there's little point in writing." ~ Kingsley Amis
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