Sublime

Pretty painting of flowers on the wall
 It's pink and blue and white, and that's all
 There are tuners and cables on the floor
 I was listening to David Bowie's "Tis a Pity She Was a Whore"
 There's an avocado on the microwave
 Oh I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you babe
 Thanks for sending me sunflower seeds
 And my favorite imported Japanese green tea
 And a few shirts I left back home
 Those look better than these photos
 They're taking here at the mobile recording studio
 They're taking photos I guess, 'cause I'm getting old
 They're taking photos while they can
 Here in room 209, overall things are going pretty fine
 Unlike the singer of Sublime who died next to his dog
 Down the street when he was in his prime
 I walked past the Oceanview Motel the other day
 And thought about a lot of things along the way
 Like how we used to bring your dog to the beach and play
 Like the Musée Mécanique that went away
 Like the one time I ate at the Beach Chalet
 With some friends I haven't seen in over a decade
 Along the trail, always a beautiful array of California flowers
 I wish I knew their names so I could sing them
 I could feel the oceans pound
 And I felt a light shower always tingling my face
 Then I ate lunch and I cleaned my plate
 And I headed west back to the Great Highway
 Stopped at Java Beach Café
 A girl was crying because a homeless guy was mean to her
 He yelled, "I'm from El Salvador, motherfucker!" and he left
 I saw surfers run from the avenues fast to catch waves
 There's probably an (?) event
 Judging by how many of them were running
 And how fast they were running, I'd say
 Now I'm watching CNN and there's Al Gore
 Headline: "Do You Think the President Believes in Climate Change?"
 Recording here in this hotel room is kinda strange
 It's like a Hitchcock film in here, but it's a good.
 I ran out of words just now, I'll come up with something fast
 That's how I work, I don't stick around with nothing long
 Now I'm gonna borrow a line from 2Pac to keep things moving along:
 He said, "We don't have the motherfucking luxury
 To spend this much motherfucking time on this one motherfucking song"
 And the sun's going down
 And the fog covers the Earth
 And the sun's going down
 And the fog covers the Earth
 And the sun's going down and the fog rolls through the Earth
 Like frankincense and myrrh in a church
 And the sun's going down and the fog covers the Earth
 Like a kitty cat foot on your Persian rug
 And the sun's going down and the fog covers the Earth
 Like a monstrous spooky ghost
 And the sun's going down and the fog covers the Earth
 And my windows are steaming
 And the sun's going down and the fog covers the Earth
 Like a big gray thermal shirt on a big man
 And the sun's going down and the fog hovers over the Earth
 Like Bon Scott's soul hovers over Perth
 And the sun's going down and the fog moves through the Earth
 Like a bunch of grandmas moving through Woolworth's
 And the sun's going down and the fog crawls through the Earth
 Like a big fat caterpillar crawling through the dirt