They don’t walk and they don’t talk in Malibu.
They don’t vote and they don’t even smoke.
I know you’re blue; They don’t cream and they don’t dream in Kansas City.
They don’t crack and they don’t act.
I know you’re ready; They don’t cry and they don’t die in South Dakota.
They don’t match and they don’t hatch in South Dakota.
Here comes the coda. Not much water coming over the hill.