In a social plane, impossible to exist, and in memories, past defeating present. We mourn the sweetheart’s loss in a disgusting world of opportunistic, lottery ticket holders caring about nothing that is long term, only the cheap thrill, the kick, the for the moment pleasure, the easy way out, the bragging rights and trophy holding. The thirteen year old tattoo, the hard attitude, devil may care, don’t call your parents, drink, insult, thank only yourself, and blame the rest if you don’t get yours. Gone to the ether, gone to your mother’s hope chest, buried in the boot of the rocker, the trunk of the car, and they get laughs, they get home late, they missed the rent, they forgot your money, they’ve got a new friend, they won’t be told they are wrong.
The White Stripes on Elephant.