They named it the rock, land of
the living dead
A repose for the rich and famous
All the infamous would tell each other's
lies
Why did they want to tell the truth

On an island in the sun
Cool Pacific winds blow

Most were poets and they wrote in
basic prose
On the walls of their sunset blvd.
In their nine by five rooms, became
inspired
By the silence in sight of the city

On an island in the sun
Cool Pacific winds blow
Just across the bay
Battered by the waves