fletch that bar shot in your sig reminded me of this song by the mad caddies - drinking for 11
"
Drinking for a living, that's just what i do,
When i'm not with you,
My heart goes to bed
End of the bar, that's just where i'll be,
Don't try and come find me
Cause i'm already dead
"
__________________
Often times I wonder why
There's love and hate, theres live or die.
When sickness comes I must decide:
When feelings go, theres suicide.