Andy Coburn was an anarchist.
Andy Coburn was a three power-chord guitar riff, fueled with high ammounts of Ultra Fuzz and a medium size guitar pick. He was a writer, a musician, a painter. A changer. But they killed him before he could change anything but himself. He wore a black jacket with hate on his back and a white t-shirt with love on his chest. He was a lover. But he is dead.

Andy's dead. And perhaps you'll remember that.

Now the air is empty.
With no light to shine on.

My name's Andrew Stillman. That's not my real name.
Thank you very much.