Props

Oh, I forgot to add this to other posts of mine but I do draw a bit of content from Redbull's diary. Read his insights on many subjects geek and comment. Oh, cross-post and link to him too, he's even interesting sometimes.

There you go Malta. :)

Interpretations please

Ok, so I've been listening to this for a while and I'd really like your interpretations on the lyrics. My gut feeling is, well I'd rather hear others opinions and I'll reply in comments.

Thanks!

Late Night Magic

Since no one reads this blog anyway... I'm posting song lyrics.

Every thought that I repent,
There's another chip you haven't spent,
And you're cashing them all in,
Where do we begin.
To get clean again,
Can we get clean again.
I walk home alone with you,
And the mood you're born into,
Sometimes you let me in,
And I take it on the chin.
I can't get clean again.
I want to know,
Can we get clean again,
The God of Wine comes crashing through, The headlights of a car that took you farther than you thought you'd ever want to go,
We can't get back again,
We can't get back again,
She takes a drink and then she waits,
The alcohol it permeates. And soon the cells give way, And cancels out the day,
I can't keep it all together, I know...I can't keep it all together,
And the siren's song that is your madness,
Holds a truth I can't erase,
All alone on your face,

Every glamorous sunrise, Throws the planets out of line,
A star sign out of whack
A fraudulent zodiac.
And the God of Wine is crouched down in my room, You let me down, I said it,
Now I'm going down, And you're not even around.
And I said no (no no no no no...)...
I can't keep it all together,
I know (I know I know I know...)...I can't keep it all together,
And there's a memory of a window, Looking through I see you. Searching for something,I could never give you, And there's someone who understands you, More than I do.
A sadness I can't erase.
All alone on your face.

"The Wingman"

Again, I have to post a link to my favorite e-zine and their most recently published article on the man's best friend in a bar, the Wingman.


http://www.moderndrunkardmagazine.com/issues/06_06/06_06_wingman.html

So as not to just post a link and hope for some laughs that I didn't write, I have to tell you a tale about the most famous Wingman that the 1st Marine Division has ever (or should ever) know. I won't use his real name, to protect his reputation but I will use his 'handle' :

Hutch.

Hutch was more than the Wingman that they talk about in the article. Hutch did not know what landing gear even was. He cared naught about his personal reputation. He had no guilt and no shame. You never 'owed him one.' Hutch was the kind of guy that you would just 'point and shoot' and off he would go working his Mid-western drawl and charm on whatever resistance you would put him up against. He was also highly effective, displaying a dizzying and unparallelled 90% success rate against single CB targets and a nearly 75% success rate working over multiple targets at once.

Many a night, many men from my old unit owe their sweaty, drunken one-night stands to Hutch. Hell, I think even a few of my old friends attribute their marriages to Hutch. For without his unflagging devotion to duty, those men would have never gotten the opportunity to talk to their dream women.

Hutch, wherever you are, I hope you are still someone's Wingman.
I also hope they are still getting you your God-awful Coors Lights.