Capistrano Beach

Terry Scott Taylor

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    Oh fly on you mixed up swallows,
    this is not the stop
    that God planned
    You are over San Juan's
    crippled sister
    and it's best you do not land
    Sing your song to Junipero Serra
    Ask him why we were left
    in the breach
    Could have used a good missionary
    here in Capistrano Beach

    Got a stepdad in Tampa,
    most my friends have moved on
    Got an old gal who's a habit
    I suppose I love still
    We used to imagine our kids
    would fill two station wagons
    and we'd live in the Palisades
    over the hill

    Now big money
    owns the high cliffs
    and the ocean view leases
    Down here theres sewage
    backed up in Bacteria Bay
    And the wild dogs chase the bikers
    along the gray hopeless beaches
    where the drugged punks
    chuck driftwood,
    get tanned so they'll look good
    when they're beatin' up
    drifters and gays

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    Ol' Jesus got busted
    but his restaurant's still open
    They got a rat or two in there
    and a fine chili relleno
    With all the stiff competition
    Leo's Liquor is closin'
    Poor Leo went down
    drinkin' whisky and Drano

    Well, the grade school burned up
    killin' mean old Miss Day
    who pinched our young arms
    when we got her too mad
    She'd tear up when she'd
    read to us
    from Hemingway
    Don't know why to this day I
    still visit her gravesite
    Hope she knows I only turned out
    half bad

    We'll think about Mexico
    and livin' down there
    I've heard of guys like me
    makin' new starts,
    out on their own fishin' boats
    with the wind in their hair
    but this town whispers low
    sayin' "you'll never go...
    hey brother, till death do us part"

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    Composición: Terry Scott Taylor

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