I got a message. Oh as I was told. Summer's fadin'. And California seems old. . Lucinda, Lucinda. A child of the water. Lucinda, Lucinda. A child of the sea.
We sing along, to broken song. We work all week, in double speak. We celebrate like strangers. . I can make it happen. I can make it happen. Little Star.
Some might wake up in a doorway. Some sit in mansions sick and sad. Some decay without the glory. And never realize what they had. . I'm not wasting away my dreams.