Tell June Gloom I'll see her soon. I've got two lungs filled with smog and this Bo Kimble sort of heart. Cause there's an actor signing laws instead of autographs. And I'm stuck, in a rut, between an a** and an elephant. We vote for things we don't believe. We build a wall. To keep them out. Cause we hate aliens. Raise high that wall. Till we can't see out. We're locking ourselves in. A broken home ith a three car garage. And every California dream is just an earthquake or a fancy mirage. From small pox and guns. Ya basta. To
La Cienega slums. Basta ya. Now our votes are at fault. Ya basta. Can I get a witness? Amen! Live and let live. Basta ya. Then tax more the rich. Ya basta. Till your borders mean sh**. Basta ya.
Enough already