| you painted it on my wall
|
| didn’t want me to see it all
|
| covered it with your parasol
|
| but it never rains
|
| and i lay
|
| what are you hiding from me
|
| in this house of lucks
|
| punched a hole right through our wall
|
| and saw the picture that was there before
|
| stuck in California paranoia
|
| California paranoia
|
| what would you do?
|
| what would you do?
|
| how could you blame me for my California paranoia
|
| this gift of pain is worrisome
|
| liked it more when i was done
|
| now i can see the end of the girl
|
| and the beginning of the world
|
| stuck in California paranoia
|
| California paranoia
|
| what would you do?
|
| what would you do?
|
| what would you do?
|
| how could you blame me for my California paranoia
|
| California paranoia
|
| oooooh
|
| she’ll never grow old
|
| oooooh
|
| until his stories explode
|
| stuck in California paranoia
|
| stuck in California paranoia
|
| what would you do?
|
| what would you do?
|
| what would you do?
|
| what would you do? |