Lyrics

You left me for buckyballs
and California.
Did you fear my tearful calls?
I tried to warn ya
that I knew I never would be getting over you.
You moved out to Houston
from California,
and there’s nothing I can do
with how I’ve torn ya;
I can never prove that my aim wasn’t hurting you.

You looked like the 3rd-best friend
of California –
a hometown homecoming queen
from towns where corn, po-
tatoes and soybeans keep smog and smarm out of your eye.
I ignored his outburst when
I’d let them shorn ya,
and soon came our endless end
like California:
land where hopes and hopers, dreams and dreamers go to die

The music conglomerates
in California:
indifferent, ‘cause I’m not fit
for lifestyle porn, a
few degrees too smart and old and ugly for TV
Well, here’s where the strings come in
from California:
I met you, and through my family’s
blinding scorn, ya
reached my guts and soul and liver and, yes, heart, you see

I’m so glad we’re round on the ends
and high in the middle
‘cause we understand…

…just don’t say you wanna move to California.