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Can’t Compete With California

If tears were silver dollars

I’d have you to thank for making me a rich man

And if hurting me was your objective

consider yourself accomplished


But on your way to self-actualizing,

I think someday you’ll be realizing

you stand to inherit the fortune you gave me

Bequeathed for the way you deserted,

betrayed me


For you, I became an involuntary martyr for all kind of man

Left by his woman, his friend, with dreams in her head . . .

Too much time on her hands


For your sake, I hope there’s still gold in those California hills

That you find what you want


And if, what the song says is true,

there’ll be no rain in your life . . .

Except when it pours


When that happens,

seek shelter in the company of those to whom you ran

since turning your back on me

For time is the healer of all things

And it takes a better man than me to forgive his Judas





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