11.12.2000 [Night]

I just DLed one of those lost-favorite-songs...you know, those songs you liked before you realized there were mp3s? Anyway, here are the lyrics to Free Falling, which I think are really poetic in a sorta simple way:

She's a good girl, loves her mama

Loves Jesus and America too

She's a good girl, crazy 'bout Elvis

Loves horses and her boyfriend too

It's a long day living in Reseda

There's a freeway runnin' through the yard

And I'm a bad boy cos I don't even miss her

I'm a bad boy for breakin' her heart

And I'm free, free fallin'

Yeah I'm free, free fallin'

All the vampires walkin' through the valley

Move west down Ventura Boulevard

And all the bad boys are standing in the shadows

All the good girls are home with broken hearts

CHORUS

I wanna glide down over Mulholland

I wanna write her name in the sky

Gonna free fall out into nothin'

Gonna leave this world for a while

CHORUS (repeat to end)

--You know what this song reminds me of? Route 66. Or at least the connotations of Route 66, all the myth that surrounds it. The movement from the Heartland to the southwest to Santa Monica by the sea.

Santa Monica has such an evocative name. More so than LA. LA's too modern, too often-heard, too recognized. But Santa Monica...you think lazy summer days, palm trees and surfing and sunsets, margaritas, 1960s convertibles and, yes, sex. By the sea.

Santa Monica's like the soul of Southern California. As much as I want that to be San Diego...eh, well, it's not. Santa Monica. Summer City, USA.

Hmm. Okay. That's all I have to say for now.