All these words I wrote Those books were mine From shattered avenues Lost silver shine "You can't catch death" wrote my baby girl But I'd left that street And I'd left the world
Books of California
The library is my cemetery A perfect place for my words to still sleep Blue sky under ice cream clouds A hawkline monster still dreams out loud for
Books of California
These words I wrote Those dreams of mine Of bottles drunk and city lights And in Oregon I wrote goodbye waves So the wind would blow my words away