Milo at Three A.M. ©

The story — in my words

I wrote this after spending way too many nights at a greasy spoon diner where the local stray cat basically ran the show. I was watching this loudmouth guy try to impress everyone with stories of his big wins, but he looked so small compared to the silent, one-eyed tomcat perched on the counter. We cut this in a single take to keep that raw, late-night grit. I wanted the guitar to feel like it was pacing the floor just like Mallow. It's a song about how the quietest observers usually see the most truth, and how ego has a way of tripping itself up while the rest of the world just keeps on spinning. Biggie thought he was the king, but Mallow knew better.