Emptiness dead-smooth and choking the air
I’m, leaving Hollywood if you don’t care
lost in the twilight of self-consciousness
trying to picture the smile you might wear
Where are the plastic doves ready to kill
the inspiration I try to fulfill
Cry for me sister on Valentine’s day
you’ll find me lying on Hollywood Hills
Spoke to an acolyte coming my way
the weather is fine what a wonderful day
his bloody robe suits him tolerably well
but he can never induce me to stay