I'm all chalked out on the ground by the curtain call.   All of the sharp observations are a paper trail forty stories tall,   Where any conclusions might slip through my fingers.   As I'm listening to the story she's telling now...       It's a beautiful life,   It's a beautiful lie.      When it's late she's still talking about California.   Where the distance from the myth has never been greater.   From the sea to the boulevard stretching her arms to the desert.      It's a beautiful life,   Such a beautiful lie...   It's a beautiful life,   But she's leading me one step behind   With a promise one day we'll arrive      And if she ever runs out of California,   She's always got, she's always got last summer   In a state of mind with occasional tremors      It's a beautiful life   Under restless and fluroescent skies   She's all coloured all into the lines, lines, lines, lines, lines...      It's a beautiful life   And she's leading me one step behind   With a promise one day we'll arrive, one day we'll arrive, one day we'll arrive...      When I get there I...   When I get there I...   I'm always one step behind...