I try to love you,
but all you wanna do is fuck me
Los Angeles, shivering hologram
Did I see you shaking your head on the 101?
Or was that just a pine-tree air freshener
Flickering on the dashboard in stale wind?
I came here with everything
Stuffed into my suitcase
So why do I feel like I now have nothing?
You give me stage fright
But I’ll still dance like a monkey for you
what percent will I receive
of the profit you make
for preying on our collective insecurities?
You romanticize everything!
Motel swimming pools
Pink plastic flamingos
Neon tangerine ashtrays
Cocaine mountain ranges for scenic drives down Sunset Blvd.
Where’s the substance?
Lucky for you, there’s no breeze to remove all that glittering party-tinsel
Keep inventing new chemical binds to prevent your plastic from melting in the heatwave,
And I’ll keep inventing new methods to lessen the blow.
Ps. I’m moving back to San Francisco.