Memory will rust and erode into lists of all that you gave me: a blanket, some matches, this pain in my chest, the best parts of Lonely, duct-tape and soldered wires, new words for old desires, and every birthday card I threw away. I wait in 4/4 time, Count yellow highway lines that you’re relying on to lead you home.

I spend the last 4 days of last week at the Bowery Ballroom enjoying the crap out of the Weakerthans playing all 4 of their albums straight through.

You should check them out too