That the beaches are filled with preachers
But the churches are empty
Accept on Christmas and Easter
Here, where the sun is always out
Where the beach combers wander the streets
The cafes are bustling with tourists
And I am alone on my blanket
Watching the waves
Wishing the next one
Would swallow me whole
California
The land of opportunity
Where it's everyone's paradise
Accept those who see through the facade
Of tanning oils and fake religions
Sandals and vacations
Can you smell the barbeque?
The hypocrisy
Maybe your mercedes is blinding you
Beach house baby...
Can you feel the sun burning you?
Leather-pleather skin cancer darling
I could never leave this paradise
After all
It's nice to feel absolutely nothing
And still get full credit for being alive