Life is beautiful, ain't it?
Even with the splinters on the plastic table
And the trail of cigarette smoke
That only blows westward towards the sea
But still manages to curl in ribbons around my fingers

Even with the empty glare of the fall sun
Filtered like water through the haze of Los Angeles
Caressing the blanket of foliage
That wraps suburbia in her deep sleep

Still, the cracks in the  porcelain sidewalks
Are the ashtrays for all of our dreams
In the obsidian dust - sterilized fallout
Life is still beautiful, ain't it?