I’ll call you up on Saturday And invite you over. Take the 101, 110 and 1; (Sounds like an equation!) And you’re there. Just use your GPS.. There’ll be a party at my house, Daft Punk playing on the Echo. It’ll be epic, Echoic! With some vintage’ tunes, Crankin’ the Beach Boys, Watching surfers Shredding out-the-back, Past prowling sharks in the shallows. Lets go to the dunes and maybe kiss. I know that you miss me, So don’t ask me why And when you come, I won’t ask “What are you doing here?” We’ll eat fish tacos, Guacamole, Pico de Gallo And drink margaritas While we debate French new wave, I’ll praise Truffaut while you Tell me that Scorsese is the man. When we get drunk enough I will suggest a walk Along the iridescent surf. You should say yes because I’m safe now that I drive electric, That I turned vegan (sorry about the fish) and wear cruelty-free clothes. I don’t grill snapper anymore And take my shoes off inside the door. Maybe we’ll make it to Tower 28, Lay down and watch the full moon Like Jim Morrison did to write. I’ll tell you I’m glad you’re alive— I’m no poet, but you know that.
This was inspired by the joyous, freewheeling song by Weezer and the SNL skit about the Californians. I sort of envy them!