They named it the rock, land of the living dead A repose for the rich and famous All the infamous would tell each other's lies Why did they want to tell the truth
On an island in the sun Cool Pacific winds blow
Most were poets and they wrote in basic prose On the walls of their sunset blvd. In their nine by five rooms, became inspired By the silence in sight of the city
On an island in the sun Cool Pacific winds blow Just across the bay Battered by the waves