Raise a glass of hope Raise a glass of liberty And a glass of something else May we be at ease with ourselves! To Los Angeles times To all the star-free nights and the sweet sunshine May we be at ease with ourselves
And then I saw you Through the faux-serene The ‘night like a room’ Can’t take my eyes off you I’ve forgotten who it is we were drinking to?
‘To the Artist!’ He was born and raised And moved away And lost contact with his life In The Los Angeles Times He says, ‘I wanna be known as a guy who gives a shit Who has contact with his life’
Can’t take my eyes off you Between the walls, ‘under the roof’ O, when I saw you In your deep serene Under the uncluttered moon
You will be known, you will be loved
And may I feel no worse May they be more than Conquerors Blah blah blah, etcetera…