From the other side of the class divide
We stand exempt from the modern ferment
We are city street grooves, pavement punctuated rhythms
Offering hope through a sufferer's lament
We look back to the Shindig and the Hullabaloo
That crackled through 1950's living rooms
Mourn the death of an age in these inexplicable days
That came with MTV in the 1980's
To this mal-famed town, blaring summer city
From it's towers in Watts to Santa Monica pier
Resigned in rush hour mediocrity
It's not the end of the world but you can see it from here
Still we desire for life and we wish you well
May you not grow old to forget your young selves
For the sounds of this city compose our song
And if you like it you can sing along
This is Major Grace
