Boyd was a cop on the L.A. beat
saw the craziest things that you'd never believe
half- faced teens without a lease on life
coat hangered girls, panicked junkies running dry.
flesh peeling from a rotting stain on the arm.
and punk rock bands that suck like mine.
mom married Boyd when i was just a child
he raised me as his own told me stories late at night,
stars in my head, until mom was bleeding on the phone
spirits crushed by the flash, son i guess you're all alone.
sweat my nights away Boyd's voice like an alarm.