"california (all the way)" by luna

c a l i f o r n i a ( a l l t h e w a y ) - l u n a

well, she followed him from phoenix out to california
and then she passed out on the bed
and all the little things he never even asked her for
she simply smiled and shook her head

why can't we smile just like we used to
why don't you figure anymore
why has my sympathy now turned to malice
it doesn't matter any more

and now i realize i'm livin' like a trucker does
although i haven't got the belly
and though she followed me to california all the way
i only wanna watch the telly

why can't we smile just like we used to
why don't you figure anymore
why has my sympathy now turned to malice
it doesn't matter any more

he asked her please stop quotin' rod mc kuen in your post cards
can't understand it anymore
and if your gonna read your poetry aloud to me
i'll have to show you to the door

why can't we smile just like we used to
why don't you figure anymore
why has my sympathy now turned to malice
it doesn't matter any more

Act V. THE TRUTH. (Love is hard work. And, sometimes, hard work can really hurt.) Love is a game. If they didn't tell you before, we will tell you now. Love is a game and if you play you either win, lose, or get ejected before the game is over. There are no ties. Maybe you'll lose and learn some great, meaningful answer from it all (like if it looks to good to be true, it is). It's easy to love something when you don't have to work at it. It's harder when it asks something of you. You just might be afraid to give. Give it anyway. The heart is the most resilient muscle. It is also the stupidest. So if this love you've found is good to you, hold it, keep it, shout about it. If it isn't, then maybe you should just become very good friends.