Apologies, Comrade CBE if you'd been saving that bottle of gin or if a dozen road-weary boys on your floor's not a special occasion. See, Australian "Cops" was a touch overbearing and the dawn was shining right in my eyes. The fires of thirst, they ain't easily quenched, but goddamn if we didn't have to try Spin something I ain't heard before and I'll drink along like I know every word. Find vomfort in patterns, disquiet in the static. Hope we dig deeper than ground floors or aesthetics. Spin this web of a family too close to be so far apart, but you can drive all night to the tune of "Brighter Lights" and never once notice the dark There's a line between being spread thin, it seems, and just being distant. Discarded or scattered. Cymbal bleed. Bathroom stalls and keys. Still no worse for worn-out, wasted or battered This machine k**s my bad dreams. Have no trouble sleeping, just skip sleep a bit better