My friends, when you are riding the downside of a merlot buzz, and your age hangs over you like the sword of Damocles swinging from a piece of used dental floss, there is no better music than Tom Waits Small Change. The gravelly voice, the lyrics straight out of a Noir marathon, and the melancholy keys of Waits' piano which almost seem insulted by the accompanying violins. Pain has never sounded so beautiful, and tears mix with whiskey to frame the night with agony and ecstasy.
No point here, just wanted to share. Step right up, folks. The piano ain't the only one who's been drinking.