Visions of California are rolling up on my shore.
I can feel the breeze through the dusk of my hopes and I'm wondering if there will be a new dawn.
I feel a hand holding mine.
I'm convinced that hand is in California, but reality says my hand is empty.
I think it always has been, and I'm wondering if there will be a new dawn.
Wouldn't things be better if I was there?
Like a new world with new dreams and wonders.
The sun always shining and my head in the clouds, but my feet are still on the mundane.
My heart's somewhere in between.
Life tends to be one big disappointment.
Nothing bad, but nothing new.
I understand seasons but it's more often winter than spring...
I know I'm not thinking in truth.
The truth is beyond California.