Punk Rock Saved My Life

My dad sold women's shoes
 And travelled nine months a year
 When he left my mom in
 '71 I didn't shed one tear
 He was a man who married
 A teenage girl when he was 39
 A man like that doesn't want a wife,
 He wants a concubine
 He moved her to Boston,
 Away from her friends and family
 He isolated her, so in turn,
 She isolated me
 She went to bars and house parties,
 And left her infant all alone
 She joked that it was all right,
 'cause in my crib she left
 The receiver of the phone
 He was a shithead father,
 Who created a vengeful wife
 It's why I proudly say:
 When I was 14
 And saw X and the Subhumans
 At the Whiskey,
 That was the night –
 It may sound trite,
 But punk rock saved my life
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 At 35, when my father said
 He never wanted me
 I remember that I didn't
 Know him as well as his TV
 Other weekends I spent in
 My granddad's Pontiac
 At least he was proud to
 Introduce me to his friends
 At the race track
 He let me bet two-buck trifectas,
 And his friends became my teachers
 I didn't know I was the only
 eight-year-old in the Santa Anita bleachers
 Because a child doesn't know what normal is
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 In Beverly Hills, I grew up
 Feeling like a tourist
 'cause my friends' parents
 Were millionaires, my mom was a manicurist
 She'd hang with the Factors
 And the Westside bourgeois
 Since she'd go out five nights
 A week, she got me my own TV
 I found her porn and sex toys
 And began to realize then:
 After she cooked dinner,
 She'd go out to fuck older wealthy men
 I never had a babysitter,
 I had a latchkey
 It's so embarrassing:
 But she never threw me
 One birthday party
 So I spent my nights going to
 Every punk show I could find
 My new home was Hollywood,
 Around Selma and Vine,
 The Cathay, the Olympic, and the Vex
 You see, punk rock was
 Never just music to me, it was my life
 My parents were just relatives,
 My family was always NOFX