Anthony was popular,
Always with a crowd.
At one time he got good grades,
And made his family proud.

But then his good life changed,
His friendships started to suffer.
His report card proved this, through the mail.
No longer his grades showed effort.

He lost old friends and found some more,
But these ones weren't the same.
They also failed school and fought.
His parents thought they were to blame.

Fast forward to New Year's,
Southside of Indy.
There was a party down the road,
And his parents thought that's where he'd be.

But he never went there,
Wasn't planning on going.
He went out to smoke with friends,
Without his parents knowing.

But he already owed them,
Was about $400 in drug debt.
He tried his hardest to pay it off,
But it was far more than he could get.

He figured they'd let him loose again,
Give him more time to pay it off.
So he went with absolutely nothing.
But of course they weren't as soft.

They threatened him to pay it back,
As they had before.
He'd ignored the threats when that happened,
But now he just got more.

One guy, Matt, pulled out a gun,
That Anthony never knew he had.
But he reassured himself he wouldn't shoot;
He'd never do something so bad.

Three times in the body, once in the head.
The neighbors called an ambulance,
But they were too late.
He was dead.

He was so young, only 14.
Believed to be innocent at the time.
But they searched his room, found a clue.
He was guilty of the crime.

Anthony did the drugs,
Used them for a bit.
His parents never had a clue,
Until the night he was hit.

He died out in an alley.
Cold, dark, unseen.
This was the very end,
For a poor, unfortunate teen.

Well now that alley's my favorite place,
To think and be alone.
I remember the last time we talked together,
The night before on the telephone.

How could you do something like this?
It surprised us all a lot.
Though you didn't think this at the time,
You'd have been better off getting caught.

Now all that's left are memories,
Candles burning bright.
They warm the cold place where you died,
That awful January night.

In Memory of William Anthony Boicourt
1988-2003
 
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