(I like you a lot)
Cruising down Santa Monica Boulevard
(You're the best Bel Airs got)
Pink champagne and gold fizz pop
(It feels pretty hot)
White sunshine and the heat of your eyes
(It ain't enough)
Hungry for the world and all it's whirl
You start to sing your song
(I play your music when you start to go)
Watching you as the record plays
(It's that music I'm watching you to)
(I think you're pretty hot)
Gold chain, smoke eyes, James Dean in your smile
(You say what you like a lot)
Crass mouth, brash sound, veteran vintage
(You say how you wonder it's me you got)
This dirty girl loves her share of filth
(I say don't you stop)
You go on like the records on repeat
I like you a lot
(That's why I play your music on)
Watching you start to go
(Watching you as the music flows)
It's that music I'm watching you to
I love you in the seventies
I live, I like, I love it like the amphetamines
I love you in the sixties
I live, I like, I love it when you kissing me
I love you watching me
So I watch you, as your song comes on
And the music plays
Watching you go to the music
It's that music I'm watching you to
YOU ARE READING
Beat Poetry
PoetryModern beat poetry, old school Kerouac, classic Lana Del Rey. If Lana Del Rey's music had an affair with Jack Kerouac's work their love child would be my poetry, set against the pop culture of America, the high of Cubano, the Lolita age where the gl...
