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 the sacred shrine
Where I kissed the Buddha and made him cry
I kissed the Buddha 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 round 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 Vagoda plays Frankenstein
I kissed the Buddha and made him cry
I kissed the Buddha and made him cry,
«Georgie, I’m your friend!»
And the shit brown reservoir is a
