Requiem for Sinéad
www.notesfromtheendofti.me
I first heard Sinead O’Connor in Athens, Georgia, in a house that smelled of marijuana and unwashed hipsters and lilac blowing on the hot summer wind. As I was an unwashed hipster at the time, I only noticed the lilac and honeysuckle. We were listening to her new cassette, The Lion and the Cobra.
Perhaps I shouldn’t say the first time. I vaguely remember…
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