I can't explain glacial motion Or why Los Angeles don't drop into the ocean I can't unfold the layers of mystery Or piece together the tragedy of history, cause Those lucky s**ers, They don't have to work Make 3D billboards and big 30-foot smurfs. Everybody wants to be naked and famous, Everybody wants to be just like me I'm naked And famous I met a poet, said she didn't like the smell of it Then took her clothes off in a restaurant for the hell of it I met a DJ who lived in seclusion Reality and sobriety were her only delusions, and Those lucky ba*tards They didn't have to work Make 3D billboards and big 30-foot smurfs Don't get a nosebleed, Don't get upset We can't be naked and famous Just yet There's a big old dollar sign On the sunset strip You can send your friend a postcard It ain't worth the trip