The canyon air is like a breath of fresh l.a. I was a star trek crew member, with my beatle boots and my super-8 And I raced you to the top, the camera gets a stuttered shot Of me approaching a painted shrine I kissed the buddah and made him cry I kissed the buddah and made him cry Georgie, I’m your friend And the shit-brown reservoir is a testament to the dogs of l.a. They hold the place like the mafia, and say, run me around again.
The sawed-off tree trunks stand among the living palms You were beaming as I focused in, and I panned along And I raced you to the top, kicking snakes up from dusty rocks Young abe vigoda plays frankenstein I kissed the buddah and made him cry I kissed the buddah and made him cry Georgie, I’m your friend And the shit-brown reservoir is a testament to the dogs of l.a. They hold the place like the mafia, and say, run me around again, I wanna go again.
The shit-brown reservoir is a testament to the dogs of l.a. They hold the place like the mafia, and say, run me around again.
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