A salute to the drunkard

I was lonely at the end of the year, going to year-end lists just because I felt that it would be the only redemption. Then, I found this man staring me in the eye, crooning his own brand of music.

“Punk rock didn’t live up to what it was meant to be”

The words came out of the speaker and for once I leaned back, and I let the tears take me. The songs took me and broke me across the walls made of glass, it made me bleed like a little boy. I felt the pain take me as I listened to my life depicted through the songs of an English boy I had never met.

Frank TurnerThen that was it, Frank turner has changed me immensely this year, to the point I started talking to people about him. Might be he is not the best singer out there but, when he sings about the things he has done with pride, when he sings about his friend dying and about how the life is affecting his relationships.

I guess when this guy talks about how his revolutions have failed, I imagine me being the rebel, being the one who talked of honesty and ethics and had a fall out. I do not hold out that high order of ideals anymore, I am flowing in the stream of political correctness too.

But, this guy is out there. A drunk man, a smoker, a person who sings of his vices as well his virtues and of all the friends he has lost.

That’s my gift to you then, Frank Turner.

Merry Christmas people

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