Shane MacGowan

Oh, Shane. What can I say?

If it weren't for you and your poetry, I wouldn't have fallen love with Ireland.

You inspired - no, you Saved - Dave King to return to his Irish roots and start Flogging Molly. You loved and were loved by Nick Cave and Sinéaid O'Connor. And your band The Pogues got me through some frustrating times over 15 years ago.

While Nick is all soul, and Sinead always sounds like she's barely choking back tears, you sounded like a a slightly-drunk dude pouring out his soul at the bar. "I'll have another one," you say, as you scribbled lyrics that will last forever. "Thanks, mate."

I quoted your bandmate, Phil Chevron, extensively in my Ireland Essay that won me my adventure to Ireland this last July and August. By the magic that sometimes happens to queer folks, I discovered that he was gay. Anyway, "Thousands Are Sailing" was my theme song for years. And, dare I say it, that song was probably the starting point for Bruce Springsteen's "American Land." Same theme, same struggles, same wild hope. That hope comes from your band and the Irish ability to find roses among the thorns that pierce their hearts.

I didn't really know that much about you. But I knew you were ill for awhile, thanks to Springsteen's visit. And I loved what my dad called your "angry Irish music," the rebel songs that you so deftly penned.

I'm glad you were welcomed into the forever clan with the Dubliners and, I think, The Chieftans. You belong there, and I doubt that you'll ever leave that clan.

After watching some of your comrades' perforamances of your songs - Nick Cave and Glen Hansard, chiefly - I bet your wake was one hell of a funeral. "And the drunks, they were singing" you out as Dublin released you into the afterlife.

And they'll dance. <3