Please take me out of my body up through the palm trees to smell California in sweet hypocrisy.
Floating. My senses surround my body. I wake my nose to smell that ocean burn.
So now I'm forging ahead past all the plutocrats who sold me out.
Go sob in your bed. If life is twice as pretty once your dead then send me a card.
I'm still the optimist though it is hard when all you want to be is in a dream
