Dateline Los Angeles, before the Show
Some of these backstreets are like a Third World
Inserted haphazardly into America
Sound check amplifiers still ringing in my ears
I sit on the wall in the alley
Breathing in the quiet hush of people hiding
When Monsters begin to fly past my head
Wild, wonderful, frightening monsters
Swimming through an ocean of air
Like deep-sea creatures exposed to the light
For the first time
I get a picture of one
Not the weirdest
Not the largest
Not even the scariest
Just the one I managed to catch
With a quick wink through the shutter
He circles around in a flash and gives me a look
Hola, he says with a slurping lisp
You�ve heard those stories, he says to me
He�s not asking, mind you; he�s telling
The ones about savages and their quaint beliefs
They think that your camera can steal their souls
But I know better, he says hovering and circling in the air
His tail flick, flick, flicking at a porch light on the wall
Where I come from, says he, we know the truth
Your photo gives up a little bit of your soul to me
I laughed and gave him a TEE Shirt
Which seemed to be the right reply
Maybe I�ll see you at the show tonight?
Maybe, he says putting the TEE Shirt on
Will it be wild?
I hear car tires crunching gravel behind me
I turn and see a patrol car, LA�s finest
Serving and Protecting
I turn back
Empty air
Just some scratches in the plaster
Near the porch light on the wall
Like a signature on a contract
Yes officer, I know it can be dangerous here
Some real monsters in this neighborhood
