YOU CAN'T FIGHT CRIME ON A FULL BLADDER

I've seen the brightest minds of my generation -- well, not really -- they all hide it -- it's stylish to hide it -- and they're so inconspicuous -- with nobody telling them when they've had enough Lone Star and Ziegenbock or whatever -- why is it pragmatic to tell them?
Patrick -- I remember when your dad took you to play bridge with us, little kid -- now you're older -- too cool for that -- too obsessed with all the things your Fender can bring you -- but separated from music like those church people we talked about and agreed were separated from God, back in '03 -- I remember when we were in Atlanta just before Christmas that year, talking about how some people are conditioned to see music as just accompaniment, with the words as the root -- and feeling sorry for them -- because we knew that music is more universal than lyrics -- that music is the real root -- that they can say their words are primary if they want -- but they're not -- they'll never be -- and the primacy of the music is something you just have to understand -- impossible to explain to someone who doesn't get it. I really liked it when we played music back then, and we talked about guitar -- talking about my not using a pick -- and you looked at me in hardcore disgust and whined that people can't grind out metal without a pick -- wondering how could anyone even THINK about playing serious music without a pick -- a shiny, idealized pick, maybe -- that my music was unacceptable, and that I should burn, and that the more seriously I took my art, the better person I'd become -- you genuinely hated me, kid! -- do you even remember that? -- why did we enjoy it so much jamming at Eeyore's a few weeks ago? -- why were we so happy? -- why are you now content with my pickless playing -- why didn't you even mention it -- your change in attitude -- who acts in the baddest faith -- you for growing up, or me for complaining?
Why are you not outspoken anymore?
I remember the time when we saw that Jack Nickleson-One Flew Over the Coocoo's Nest picture on the wall of the pool hall -- and you asked me what movie that picture came from -- and I said One Flew Over the Coocoo's Nest -- and you looked at me eyes-to-eyes, shocked and impressed -- and challenged me, "Who directed 'One Flew Over the Coocoo's Nest?'" -- and I said let me think -- and you told me Stanley Kubrick -- and I said good guess -- and that even though I didn't know who directed it, I didn't think Stanley Kubrick did -- and you said that the director was indeed Stanley Kubrick -- you said so confidently -- and our discussion didn't go any further.
Those three little by my doorstep are still singing sweet songs now, a little before 7 in the mornint. And everylittlething really will be alright -- I'll keep you in mind -- and your neighbors like you nearby who'll soon have a hangover -- and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more in time to come -- with each guy abandoned his edge like you did -- quietly drinking himself to death on local beer.