Blue dirt night, palm trees hanging low Sunset drive cramped up for show They’d see her fall, three women in heat Violent screams drown in painted steam
Parts of her keep your colors alive Now that Mildred’s gone, they all feel alike Dust meltdown at Malibu Beach I’m counting sand, it stopped making sense
Drink it up and then Take a shot at when, at when you were young Before you were gone And then Play it again