Poor, Poor La

I've seen your imagination high above the halfway station
Always working, always making something for the pile
Then you set it all on fire
You can learn to make something real
That comes from the heel of your life
I'm still trying
You don't have to break your mama's heart to change the world

Mama's boy's daddy is in the crack house again
Watching car crash shows with the pipe in

A pack of dull monkeys could write circles around
That fourth grade, mumbly slang
Stream of consciousness, jive that you call a song
Is that going to be your story?
Child, you don't have to break your mama's heart to change the world
You're never gonna change your mind
Don't just rearrange the lies into a straighter line

Not too many years ago there was hippies killing people
A mile away from the Marlboro Ma.n
Now there's sandpaper pants on the gutter punks, And lowriders with their heads in the trunks or Walking in fours, and kicking in doors, cutting it up, and filling their cup
You don't have to break your mama's heart to change the world

Said you don't have to break your mama's heart to change the world
Change the world

Poor, poor LA
Poor, poor LA
Poor, poor LA