| Dear Mom
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| Here I am in San Diego
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| This is what it’s like…
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| And you can watch the water roll up on the shore
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| See it switch and flow the other way
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| And you can spend the entire day
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| Sitting on the fence down by the water
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| Watching all the girls and boys
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| 'Cause yeah, Rico’s got the moves
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| From behind he’s nobody’s fool
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| But I wonder if he’d ever give the goods
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| That girl Rita’s a locked up box
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| I used to know her, but then we got lost
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| She’s made a home
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| Underneath the pounding of the waves
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| That’s where she stays
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| And Felicia
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| She’s always there
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| She’s got the sun
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| It’s in her hair
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| Seen her with a picinic lunch
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| And I know she’d share
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| But I never had the time
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| I’ve got to hold another place in line
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| Like to think one day, I’ll have the time
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| And Marty’s selling hot-dogs
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| Yeah, Marty’s got the fries
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| He’s always making eyes
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| But just exactly what’s he selling
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| With all the stories he is telling?
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| He says
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| Everybody’s so important
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| And he’s a rock n’roll star
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| And Annabelle she wants it
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| Yeah, Annabelle is going for it
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| But why are her hands empty
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| When in her backpack she’s got plenty?
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| Well, she’s afraid to get too large
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| She’s on a steady diet of exhaustion
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| But I…
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| I’ve seen you
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| And I see your shape as you walk away
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| And Arturo walks the air
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| I’ve seen him kill with his frozen stare
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| But I know he’s in there
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| And Felicia
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| She’s always there
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| She’s got the sun
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| It’s in her hair
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| Seen her with a picinic lunch
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| And I know she’d share
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| But I never have the time
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| I got to hold another place in line
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| Like to think someday
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| I’ll have the time
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| Like to think someday
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| I’ll make the time |