In Santa Monica, in the wintertime, the lazy streets so undemanding    I walk into the crowd    In Santa Monica, you get your coffee from the coolest places on the promenade    Where people dress just so    Beauty so unavoidable, everywhere you turn it's there.    I sit and wonder what am I doing here?    But on the telephone line I am anyone, I am anything I want to be.    I could be a super model or Norman Mailer    And you wouldn't know the difference    Or would you?    In Santa Monica, all the people got modern names like Jake or Mandy    And modern bodies too    In Santa Monica, on the boulevard, you'll have to dodge those in-line skaters    Or they'll knock you down    I never felt so lonely    Never felt so out of place    I never wanted something more than this    But on the telephone line I am anyone,    I am anything I want to be    I could be a super model or Norman Mailer    And you wouldn't know the difference    On the telephone line I am any height,    I am any age I want to be    I could be a caped crusader, or space invader    And you wouldn't know the difference    Or would you?