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