Ignoring the messages on your machine,
  Even your name is sounding obscene,
  It's all I can do to keep to myself,
  When I set next to you
  
  Deep in the Valley I feel afraid,
  We look like junkies in a raid,
  We hate the MOCA, we hate "art",
  We'll be apart
  
  An empty whisky bottle helps to see us through,
  I wish I had a bit more faith in me and you,
  Now I know why you will go,
  You're the star of the show
  
  I took a cab to a Santa Monica Pier,
  I half expected to see you sitting there,
  I walked all around,
  For almost two hours
  
  Meeting for drinks on my trip to L.A.,
  I already feel like it's a mistake,
  You're astute in your judgement,
  We're both too sentimental
  
  I hate to see you sad in my favorite dress,
  The next time that you wear it it'll be for someone else,
  Now I know why you will go,
  You're the star of the show