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.