west coastme, i'm from a different type of left land, old wild west land. nosebleeds, palm trees and tumbleweeds rustling. outsiders say it's happy here, but it's depressing. too many pretty faces catching my attention. so i look at them, remind myself in the smudged glass. that pretty isn't everything, you punk ass. always hard to see past the surface, when it looks so perfect. but our eyes will disguise dirt on purpose, you listening? i grew up here, under the sun. in grade school i was the odd one out of the bunch. and i don't mean i was the kid to eat bugs for lunch. i was the one who wasn't coming from where they're coming from. i speak poetically and never pride my ignorance. but this califournia shit is rigorous. they say it's happy here, happiness is figurative. i'm happy 'cause of me, doesn't matter where i'm living. if the sun was god, i'd be covered in faith. if the ocean was the devil, i'd be covered in hate. i'm so west coast, it's a goddamn shame. i'm so west coast, it's a goddamn shame. i'm waking up underneath sheets, naked still sweating. slept in late so everybody else is ready. my friend called up, he said "hurry up, buddy, it's almost sundown already". so i hopped up, i went and washed up. i ate some pasta, then i gave my mum hugs. and then i thought "uh, it's gonna be a pretty nice night". but pretty isn't everything, right? golden state mind, i'm taking my time. plain white shirt and a skinny black tie. my top let down when i get picked up. p.c.h. so califournia, maybe they were right, happiness is a warm gun. but before you shoot, please warn us. life is too fun, califournia will you marry me? let the god be the sun and in the ocean they shall bury me. if the sun was god, i'd be covered in faith. if the ocean was the devil, i'd be covered in hate. i'm so west сoast, it's a goddamn shame.