In Santa Monica, in the winter time
The lazy streets so undemanding
I walk into the crowd

In Santa Monica, you get your coffee from
The coolest places on the promenade
Where people dress just so

Beauty so unavoidable
Everywhere you turn, it's there
I sit and wonder
what am I doing here?

But on the telephone line
I am anyone, I am anything I want to be
I could be a supermodel
Or Norman Mailer
And you wouldn't know the difference
Or would you?
In Santa Monica, all the people got modern names
Like Jake or Mandy
And modern bodies too
In Santa Monica, on the boulevard
You'll have to dodge those in line skaters
Or they'll knock you down

I never felt so lonely
Never felt so out of place
I never wanted something more than this

But on the telephone line
I am anyone, I am anything I want to be
I could be a supermodel
Or Norman Mailer
And you wouldn't know the difference

See, on the telephone line

To be continued...