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There's a part of the country could drop off tomorrow in an earthquake,
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Yeah, it's out there on the cutting edge, the people move, the sidewalks shake.
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And there's another part of the country with a land that gently creaks and thuds,
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Where the heavy snows make faucets leak in bathrooms with free-standing tubs.
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They're in houses that are haunted, the with kids who lie awake and think about
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All the generations past who used to use that dripping sink.
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And sometimes one place wants to slip into the other just to see
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What it's like to trade its demons for the restless ghost of Mrs. Ogilvey,
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She used to pick the mint from her front yard to dress the Sunday pork,
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Sometimes southern California wants to be western New York.
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It wants to have a family business in sheet metal or power tools,
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It wants to have a diner where the coffee tastes like diesel fuel,
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And it wants to find the glory of a town they say has hit the skids,
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And it wants to have a snow day that will turn its parents into kids,
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And it's embarrassed, but it's lusting after a SUNY student with mousy brown hair who is
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Taking out the compost, making coffee in long underwear.
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And southern California says to save a place, I'll meet you there,
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And it tried to pack up its Miata, all it could fit was a prayer,
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Sometimes the stakes are bogus, sometimes the fast lane hits a fork,
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Sometimes southern California wants to be western New York.
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Tempe, Arizona thinks the Everglades are greener and wetter,
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And Washington, D.C. thinks that Atlanta integrated better,
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But I think that southern California has more pain that we can say,
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'Cause it wants to travel back in time, but it just can't leave L.A.
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But now I hear they've got a theme park planned, designed to make you gasp and say,
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Oh, I bet that crumbling mill town was a booming mill town in its day,
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And the old investors scoff at this, but the young ones hope they'll take a chance,
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And they promise it will make more dough than Mickey Mouse in northern France,
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And the planners planned an opening day, a town historian will host,
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And the waitresses look like waitresses who want to leave for the west coast.
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And they'll have puttering on rainy weekends, autumn days that make you feel sad,
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They'll have hundred y
Written by Dar Williams