Noah Gundersen - California

California, golden morning
I can feel it in the silence of the room
On the carpet, shadows creeping
From the window it's a room without a view
Just the creeping, endless traffic
Stretching off into a wash of hazy blue
On my mattress, killing hours
Trying not to call you

All the vampires, of the valley
Cracking jokes and blowing smoke like cigarettes
While their mothers, in the suburbs
Taking pills with wine and trying to forget
Rows of houses, empty windows
Lit with silent signs and life from the TV
While the water is disappearing
Down the cracks in the concrete

And if you look, you will see
That I got blood, on my sleeve
And I can be, anything
That you want me to be
In California
In California

I'm tearing at the seams...

Don't make me make up my mind
I'm running out of time
...
In California