Verse 1: I sit on the edge of the bed, trying to fold the day Four decades pressing on my chest, a vest I can’t take away Bottle on the nightstand—not whiskey, just the pills Blood pressure meds since thirty-two, chasing what the body bills Doctor said “way too young for this” when he wrote the script Now I choke them down each night, pray that sleep won’t slip Hope is fragile as a thread, learned that long ago Even a distant siren’s enough to steal the show Verse 2: On cue it wails outside my window, pulls me back to ‘88 South Central, shots fired call, I’m twenty-five at the gate Two years in, still a rookie when the cruiser skids to stop Cordite thick, fear thicker—can’t make the images drop A boy, barely fifteen, beneath the streetlight’s glow Powder burns stenciled on his forehead, eyes that’ll never know Another sunrise, another chance—blood pooling on the ground His vacant gaze still lingers here, thirty years and counting down Pre-Chorus: The siren fades into the distance, I breathe in deep and slow Inhale, exhale—trying to let the memory go Chorus: But sleep won’t come, the pebbles pile Every call, every face, every mile From South Central streets to this bed tonight Still carrying the weight, still fighting the fight Pebbles on the dresser, stones in my chest Forty years of service—this is what’s left Bridge: I open my eyes, heart racing wild Gunfire echoing like I’m still that child Twenty-five and thinking I was bulletproof Now I know the body keeps the truth I reach for the pebble on my dresser—smooth stone for nights like this A reminder that the weight I carry isn’t something I can dismiss Final Chorus: ‘Cause sleep won’t come, the pebbles pile Every call, every face, every mile From rookie patrol to sheriff’s star Still fighting demons from a life lived hard Pebbles on the dresser, one more night Forty years of stones—trying to sleep despite Outro: The boy in South Central, the bullets in the dark The weight of the vest, the physician’s remark “Way too young”—but the damage was done Now I’m sitting here at the end of the run Pebbles on the dresser, meds on the stand Trying to sleep with blood still on my hands
