Warren Zevon died Sunday, September 7, at the untimely age of 56.
You know one of the things I most admire about the guy is that when he was diagnosed with terminal cancer the first thing he did was hit the studio and record a new fucking album.
The man who wrote “I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead” took a nap and didn’t wake up.
He was a musician’s musician and he’ll be greatly missed. It makes the Lindley performance of “Werewolves of London” from the night before all the more poignant.
We made mad love
Shadow love
Random love
And abandoned love
Accidentally like a martyr
The hurt gets worse and the heart gets harder
Or something like that. Rest in peace, Warren.
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One response to “Warren Zevon, R.I.P.”
*sigh*