"Bluebeard proved to be the rare band that could pull off a chorus alternating from a five-count to a six-count without sounding like prog rock...and the odd-timed ballad "Roadside" was good solid pathos any band could be proud of."
- SF Bay Guardian Aug 16 2000
The plank road along the shore was long and dark, and all he had to light
his way was a fading oil lantern, soon to perish from lack of fuel. Rain
was falling on his already wet clothes, mingling with the lingering smell of seawater. He wished he could find his way out of the debt he had yet to pay, as the light of the inn at the end of the way became visible at last. Just a few more minutes of walking and I'll work on stopping the shivers, he thought. The port had opened momentarily, just long enough for him to step through, enough for him alone. Those who had been left
behind would soon be forgotten. He knew the drill. He knew that soon
he would again hear the sound of the boots, soles ringing, and the chase
would continue. He hoped the remaining night would offer some rest as
he stepped through the door of the inn.