Since I started the two posts on Sobran put up a little while ago, I've had this song playing in a loop, turned up real loud like it's a war-song and the warriors are all men.
It's a fitting song for Sobran, but not for Buckley. When a real warrior leaves the battlefield, it's not his wit or vocabulary the men who stayed back home with the women and children remark over. It's the smell of blood and death, and he can't wash them off.