What brings you around?. Did you lose something the last time you were here?. You'll never find it now. It's buried deep with your identity. . So stand aside and let the next one pass.
My mental stability reaches its bitter end. And all my senses are coming unglued. Is there any cure for this disease someone called love. Not as long as there are girls like you.
Born into Nixon and I was raised in Hell. A welfare child where the teamsters dwelled. The last one born, and the first one to run. My town was blind from refinery sun.
I sit alone in my bedroom. Staring at the walls. I've been up all damn night long. My pulse is beating, my love is yearning. . I hold my breath and close my eyes and.
Things are so much harder now. No matter how I try. Junkyard days and toxic waste. Still love is on my mind. . I can see the ledge now. Golden Gate is falling from behind.