My Family

These are the same streets that he walked down
These are the same roads that he drove
And these are the ways that he went bad
Just off the highway by Ventura
Blood rolling down by the motel walk
And that’s my blood
My family crest is a stranger’s blood
But that’s not me
I count the times that he chose badly
I count the times that I went wrong
It’s not the same
Sometimes I guess that I lose my temper
Hate myself and I curse my name
It’s just like him (ch)
Sometimes I think that I’m not human
I wonder why I never cry
And then I know
Blood rolling down from the Chevron station
I know that none of it was mine
And then I know