Stained Class (1978)

This is the good shit. The best. And you can drive on it.

On a work day you might catch us out back by the dumpsters with our eyes glazed, swallowing Sin After Sin. Chase it with a little Painkiller and punch out. Take this job and Ram It Down.

But of all the hits we've taken, Stained Class bonds most completely to our DNA. It has flooded those few receptors left in the brain after years of huffing Melissa. Morning Noon and Night we suck these two crusty diamonds down, one after the other, until sleep somehow slides in between the links in Binks' gleaming armor, coils up to Tipton's stickshift and King's cross of bone. They are the rod and the staff. We ride with them through the valley of the infidels, and fear no man.

You come back from these trips with gibberish about the kingdoms you've seen. There was light everywhere... and Time was a cradle of string in my hands... People give you blank looks. Description is futile. Words fail, become dilapidated flowers. I want to paint moustaches on everyone I see. Better by you, better than me.

At some point we will live only to git a fix. Fuck food and shelter. I've got this shit on cd and vinyl. And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Stand by for Exciter.