This very touching story is shamelessly copied from "Mykle - The Red Hound of Ulster (curuad)" on LiveJournal:
http://www.livejournal.com/community/th ... /3787.html
<blockquote>I was reminded last night of the power of the Pogues.
Some of the lads and I were sitting around tonight. We were supposed to be doing some gaming but since the rest of our group couldn't seem to get its shit together, we had decided to toss back a few shots instead. So, out comes the whiskey and, after a few rounds thrown back to Flogging Molly, on goes the Pogues' <i>If I Should Fall From Grace With God</i>.
Ten years of my life have gone by to the tune of that album. From the first time I'd heard the Pogues while drinking in my friends' basement, to sitting in my chair at the gaming table last night, the ups and downs of my days have had Shane and the boys for a soundtrack.
I remember dancing a jig to <i>If I Should Fall From Grace With God</i>.
I remember singing <i>Fairy Tale Of New York</i> first with my friends as a tradition at every party, then along with my now ex-fiancee as a duet that always ended with us in tears but laughing.
I remember crying with my dad to <i>Thousands Are Sailing</i> after my grandfather had died.
I remember running naked through a party while belting out <i>Fiesta</i>.
I remember the first time I made love to <i>The Broad Majestic Shannon</i>.
What struck me last night, really though, was <i>Lullaby of London</i>. You see, seven months ago one of my best friends killed himself. He took a bottle of sleeping pills, then hung himself from the rafters of his apartment. To this day, no one is quite sure why; he didn't leave a note, and the last person he'd talked to was his ex-girlfriend, to whom he simply asked for a reason to live. All of our close friends, the people we'd grown up with, spent a weekend together trying to figure it all out and drinking ourselves stupid. There were many toasts in his name, many songs sung, and it dawned on me last night that the last time I'd really listened to <i>Lullaby of London</i> was that night.
Needless to say, I had a good last night.
I remember singing <i>Lullaby of London</i> as part of a dreary, alchohol-soaked attempt to drown the pain of losing a friend.
The power of the Pogues is the magic woven in their songs, magic that even a man with a heart of stone couldn't ignore. Shane's voice is the embodiment of the everyman's soul, that can kiss you on one cheek and slap you on the other. Theirs is the music that stretches from dawn til dusk, reminding us all that no matter where we stand, rich or poor, sick or healthy, we're all the same at the core.
<blockquote><i>May the wind that blows from haunted graves
Never bring you misery
May the angels bright
Watch you tonight
And keep you while you sleep</i></blockquote></blockquote>

