First. We didn't really know you. But we felt like we did. You were the father we wished we had always had. You were a rock G-d. You lived and breathed rock. Your bass thundered like the gods of olde. You drank and fucked without a care. When doctors tried to slow you down, you switched to vodka and smoked a few less cigarettes. But in the end you died with honor. A long road littered with empties and discarded groupies.
Your music will echo the halls of Valhalla for eternity.