She wakes up and sees the stamp on her wrist from last night's musical revelry and in harsh daylight it looks like a bar-code for Babylon. She stupidly talks about her travel plans and the next day mother nature takes thousands of lives and she thinks its her fault. She buys both brands of luck from the thrift shop and knows it's hotel California, just like her life. She tries to remember, but every trigger suppresses something in her mind. She used to have 20/20 vision until she got a piece of gravel in her eye; she's been walking blind ever since. And she wonders when unconditional love turned political. And she wonders why the whole coast is so cynical. And she knows a "ghost" stole her lighter. She knows the clock is wrong. She knows she needs a compass.