Santa Monica

In Santa Monica, in the winter time,
The lazy streets so undemanding
I walk into the crowd
In Santa Monica, you get your
coffee from
The coolest places on the
promenade
Where people dress just so
Beauty so unavoidable, everywhere
you turn
It’s there I sit and wonder what am I
doing here?
But on the telephone line I
am anyone
I am anything I want to be
I could be a super model or
Norman Mailer
And you wouldn’t know the
difference
Or would you?

In Santa Monica, all the people got
modern names
Like Jake or Mandy
And modern bodies too
In Santa Monica, on the boulevard,
You’ll have to dodge those
In-line skaters
Or they’ll knock you down
I never felt so lonely,
Never felt so out of place
I never wanted something more
than this

But on the telephone line I
am anyone
I am anything I want to be
I could be a super model or
Norman Mailer
And you wouldn’t know the
difference
On the telephone line, I am
any height
I am any age I want to be
I could be a caped crusader, or
space invader
And you wouldn’t know
the difference
Or would you?

[repeat]

Posted in Savage Garden and tagged , , , .

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