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?