Which I guess is why, having read this this week, I found myself longing for this:
Words fail me to express how much I love this song, or the whole album, or Warren Zevon's voice, or the memory of lying on the floor in my bedroom listening to these songs at night in the 1970s, which feel now to me like an era of longing, and promise, and . . . well, other fatuous girly stuff that really doesn't seem consistent with listening to Warren Zevon songs, or with reality on the ground, either, but there it was.