In that shithole bar again. Fans slowly turning. Waiting on a friend. Clotted veins. Neon lights pulsing, parlaying shadows against the greased glass backdrop. Drab exultations of replayed melodies pouring from the beer soaked mouths near you, splashing spit, yammered tales and sloppy laughs of old times. Vapid arm jabs to show appreciation, too. Aw, the damned.
Then, miraculously, on the jukebox, Moody Marlin comes on. And his sea-sick, spaced-out crooning goes hand in hand with your surroundings. Your friend never shows, but no worries. Moody Marlin’s there to keep you company.
See what’s up and get your ears slimmed below.
• Pretty All Right Records: http://www.prettyallright.com
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