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Avocado Faultline by Terry Scott Taylor | CD Reviews And Information | NewReleaseToday


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01 . Cowboys With Engines
02 . Startin' Monday
03 . Capistrano Beach
04 . Pie Hole
05 . The Afternoon
06 . Built Her A Cloud
07 . Angels Must Smile Like That
08 . With What I Should Have Said
09 . Pretend I'm Elvis (Just For One Night)
10 . Papa Danced On Olvera Street
11 . Kind Word

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"Capistrano Beach" Lyrics [edit]
by Terry Scott Taylor | from the album Avocado Faultline
 

Oh, fly on, you mixed up swallows,
This is not the stop that God planned
You are over San Juan's crippled sister, and it's best you do not land,
Sing your song to Junipero Serra,
Ask him why we were left in the breach,
Could have used a good missionary, here in Capistrano Beach.

I got a step-dad in Tampa, most my friends have moved on,
Got an old gal, who's a habit, I suppose I love still,
Used to imagine our kids would fill two station wagons,
And we'd live in the Palisades over the hill.

Now big money owns the high cliffs and the ocean view leases,
Down here there's sewage - gets dumped in Bacteria Bay,
And the wild dogs chase the bikers along the grey, hopeless beaches,
Where the drugged punks chuck driftwood,
Get tanned so they'll look good when they're beating up drifters and gays.

Oh, fly on, you mixed up swallows,
This is not the stop that God planned
You are over San Juan's crippled sister, and it's best you do not land,
Sing your song to Junipero Serra,
Ask him why we were left in the breach,
Could have used a good missionary, here in Capistrano Beach.

Old Jesus got busted, but his restaurant's still open,
They got a rat or two in there, and a fine chilli relleno,
With all the stiff competition, Leo's Liquor is closing,
Poor Leo went down, drinking whisky and Drano.

Well, the grade school burned up, killing mean old Miss Day,
Who pinched our young arms when we got her too mad,
She'd tear up when she'd read to us from Hemingway,
Don't know why, to this day, I still visit her gravesite,
Hope she knows I only turned out half bad.

Well, I think about Mexico and living down there,
I've heard of guys like me making new starts,
Out on their own fishing boats with the wind in their hair,
But this town whispers low, saying, "You'll never go; a brother, 'til death do us part."

Oh, fly on, you mixed up swallows,
This is not the stop that God planned
You are over San Juan's crippled sister, and it's best you do not land,
Sing your song to Junipero Serra,
Ask him why we were left in the breach,
Could have used a good missionary, here in Capistrano Beach,
Could have used a good missionary, here in Capistrano Beach.


+ Entry lasted edited by fearfulsymmetry on 11.15.07

 


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13TH ANNUAL WE LOVE CHRISTIAN MUSIC AWARDS: Voting Starts Monday 12/2 | Tickets On Sale - Live Ceremony 4/8

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