Sweet Susan with her long hair as black as burned oil, still when she sleeps like a burial
Hands on her hips in her Malibu shoes, leading blind children to safety
She treats my disease like a faithful old dog: she looks in his eyes and says "no"
With her ski books and glossaries of secret police; wet footprints on wood in the cabin she sings
"If you don't know life you won't forget death
The West Coast is back in my breath"
Chameleon Elise up on Gravity Hill planted a white flag of silence
But could not secure permits to build on the land from the grunts and the junkies of power
There are old brittle trees in the distance tonight, I dream of them squeezed 'tween my teeth
But I know those thoughts are more dangerous now 'cause I feel the same way about Elise
And if you don't know life you can't forget death
The West Coast is back in my breath
Gold Mary of molecules shuffled by fire knows nothing can never be burned
She sleeps as if poisoned 'neath the crooked white line and is quick to advise us the same way each time
Life's easy when you're young and you're off of the ground 'til the weight of the sky slows you down
And it's ugly and vile as some new homemade sin when they bury the smoke in some false oxygen
And if you don't know life you won't forget death
The West Coast is back in my breath