Santa Monica

In Santa Monica, in the wintertime,

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?

Or would you?