A day in the life, an anthem for a lost lonely addict. Marching to the stumbling beat towards the shady corners of the city where the bad kids go. Looking for love, finding more trouble, and waking in the hospital to start the journey all over again and again...
The distorted guitars and pounding drums represent the frantic anxious search for the next high. The police sirens are always in the background keeping you on the run. The innocence lost and the comradery of the broken. There is a romance there, a form of beautiful tragedy.
A drum-heavy rhythm for a heavy heart. The desperation and vulnerability of a once glamorous lifestyle has caught up… it’s not so glamorous after all.
Hot Mud's morning ritual: miraculously wake up, find a liquor store, find a secluded spot (usually a public restroom), guzzle down his morning medicine, and then stumble out to start the day.
Sounds of a children’s song by a middle-aged drunk. Reflecting on a troubled past, wishing for a happy and healthy future while celebrating a birthday in rehab.
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