eat your fucking heart out
I think I'm drunk enough to drive you home now
I'll keep my mouth kept shut under lock and key
that's rusted firm, no lie
'cause all these conversations wind on and on...
drinking champagne from a paper cup
is never quite the same
and every sip's moving through my eyes
and up into my brain
at half past two; about time to leave
'cause the dj's playing rhythm and blues
a sad-sorry state; stutter step to those slammin' grooves
as I'm waiting around for you...
godspeed you black emperor
bracewar
sigur ros
alkaline trio
owen
desaparecidos
deftones
elliot smith
outbreak
radiohead
thom yorke
mogwai
portishead
cujo
johnney cash
lynard skynard
pretty girls make graves