Santa Monica
In Santa Monica, in the wintertime,The lazy streets so undemandingI walk into the crowdIn Santa Monica, you get your coffee fromThe coolest places on the promenadeWhere people dress just soBeauty so unavoidable, everywhere you turnIt's there.I sit and wonder what am I doing here?
But on the telephone line I am anyoneI am anything I want to be.I could be a super model or Norman MailerAnd you wouldn't know the differenceOr would you?
In Santa Monica, all the people got modern namesLike Jake or MandyAnd modern bodies tooIn Santa Monica, on the boulevard,You'll have to dodge those in-line skatersOr they'll knock you downI never felt so lonely,Never felt so out of placeI never wanted something more than this
But on the telephone line I am anyoneI am anything I want to beI could be a super model or Norman MailerAnd you wouldn't know the differenceOn the telephone line, I am any heightI am any age I want to beI could be a caped crusader, or space invaderAnd you wouldn't know the differenceOr would you?
Or would you?
But on the telephone line I am anyoneI am anything I want to beI could be a super model or Norman MailerAnd you wouldn't know the differenceOn the telephone line, I am any heightI am any age I want to beI could be a caped crusader, or space invaderAnd you wouldn't know the differenceOr would you?