Slipstream in the middle of
The team huddle, in the middle
Of the football field, trying to
Yield to peace, but I want to win!
Cannot sneeze without Your blessing—
Those basement days of the star wars
Maze, Beastie Boys pounding as
I was hiding, mom never wanted
Dark to come in, I was the story lover,
The fledgling writer since birth,
Pink sheet said why are you unique
I said because there is only one of me—
In Christ all is found including yourself,
Not just your job—free falling playing
In the background, L.A. has some sunspots
On me, its city sinks into me—mission field
Love to yield, now truth to wield—
Someone to love goes the sound on
The Santa Monica Pier, is this the
Voice to hear? Lankershim with some
Roller skates, no more Chinatown
For Gittes and his spilt nose,
No more water hose for the
Grass is gonna dry up soon!
What is this city?
Where there is to much pretty
Where there is to much sun to
Steal, to much to keep real—
Love me in L.A. with some
Citified pride—lights in the night sky
Lights to guide me, one last time