Santa Monica Dream

Goodbye to my Santa Monica dream
Fifteen kids in the backyard drinking wine
You tell me stories of the sea
And the ones you left behind
Goodbye to the roses on your street
Goodbye to the paintings on your wall
Goodbye to the children we'll never meet
And the ones we left behind
And the ones we left behind

I'm somewhere, you're somewhere
I'm nowhere, you're nowhere
You're somewhere, you're somewhere
I could go there but I don't

Rob's in the kitchen making pizza
Somewhere down in Battery Park
I'm singing songs about the future
Wondering where you are
I could call you on the telephone
But do I really want to know?
You're making love now to the lady down the road
No I don't, I don't want to know

I have been rewatching an old cartoon recently- As Told By Ginger. I don't know if this is a symptom of Peter Pan complex, or the workings of my depraved, undependable mind. But it is really one of the best cartoons out there. The characters are complex, the dialogue is real, the jokes are earthy and funny. I remember feeling like a million bucks whenever I got the timings right and managed to catch it. This, and The Wild Thornberrys. Oh, and there’s this show with a talking spell-book that could transport people from one place and other, and always slammed shut after absorbing them and left pages fluttering downwards. What am I doing at 3am in the morning reminiscing about classic childhood favourites? I don't know, maybe it is a reflection of the desire to return to the times when everything was safe, and hugeeee, but never critical. Been feeling so lost lately. Not a nice feeling at all.