She was late. I hate to wait. She’s never usually like this.

And when you come through that door you’ll be mumbling something / About talking Kabbalah with your friends.

I wish that I could close my eyes, teleport and materialize, right there by her side in California.

When I say “spiritual groove” this is who I mean / They be at the center of this whole new scene.

Finally, someplace that was all about the love.

The June gloom, waiting for the sun; the surfer’s flu, the grunion run ... that’s so LA.

I’m alive, I’m here, what more is there to say?

i.e., Jersey guy in LA, in Jersey.

Well I suppose I should tell you how I got here / How I somehow got steered across this continent ...