IF YOU DRINK IN THE MORNING, THE HEROES WILL NEVER COME. This is the name of your death. This is your death by the glass. It is easy to see your death if you look through the bottle of wine, holding it up to the morning sun. Your death in purple light. Your death in pinot noir, your death in cabernet sauvignon. The heroes are not listening to you now, they are all washing their capes for another day, another needy victim. No one listens to a drunk anyway.