I was eighteen
a twisted vine and green
I went to California
I had dreams

I rode trollys
I was full of folly
I crossed the Golden Gate
Broke off sacred holly

I wanted to find myself
In and of itself
I found out who I wasn't
An inconvience of oneself

As hard as I tried the
tears for nothing I cried
My blood wasn't home
Yes you are ! I lied and lied and lied

I'm nothing special
I'm not spatial
A fish gulping air
A lost looking ******

So go back home
Feel it in the bone
So I rode the bus
California ! I moan


(Eureka ! I have found it !)
California State Motto