Lyrics

The old Main Street is fumes and vapes I've been driving Downtown with the Basement Tapes There is nowhere else I'd rather be Except for being here if you'd be with me There's a guy on the corner of Pacific and 8th He spins all day in his roller skates Carries a Chihuahua in a pink backpack And he's giving me a heart-attack Someone asks me what it is I do And I say Moby Dick what is it to you? My job is just to drive around Like an Uber around town Picking words along the way Take them to my piano at thе end of the day Hope thеy line up into a tune Good enough for Herman Dune Now I'm doing 90 on the express lane I'm going to Carl's and so I can't complain I can't exit 'cause no one blinks Now I'm starving and my hair is pink I'm looking out for the yellow star I've got no GPS in my car My tooth is rotten like Harley Quinn You can only lose if you're trying to win I used to dream of the LBC Watching Snoop Dogg on the MTV Now I miss my youth and I miss my tooth But I'm cruising and sipping on gin and juice Going over the bridge and Eva Green The cherry boats and the sweet sixteens You just can't count on experience They'll go for your neck if they're given a chance Throw a buck and get in line You'll get a piece of me for your piece of mind I hate the sound of the ghetto birds But I'll dig your song if you dig your words Terminal Island is the place to be If you really, really, really wanna be like me High on rye and lost at sea Coming up the LBC