Bob Dylan: There was bodies piled sky-high doing whatever they felt like doing. It was all street.
Kevin Cogill: I was oblivious to a lot of it, but I lived in constant paranoia.
Dylan: I'm not an imaginary character, though.
Cogill: It's a respectable opinion.
Dylan: And it's trickery. A lot of cobalt blue.
Cogill: Who knows. Forsensic stuff.
Dylan: Just the everyday vices.
Cogill: A kid in his 20s was in deep shit for mailing meth or something across state lines.
Dylan: They make neckpieces out of them, bury them. Burn them up.
Cogill: This means nothing to anyone living outside of Los Angeles.
Dylan: It is just a bunch of trees and sheds. Nobody's hiding anything.
Cogill: I think it was just a voicemail that I got and didn’t have time to respond to. I do not have a photographic memory.
Dylan: That's why they're alive. You can get away with anything for a while.
Cogill: And then I started looking for lawyers.