Santa Cruz (Rodriguez)

So many saints in this heathen land_______
More martyrs than they have mothers
More captains than deck hands
There’s a hidden race in every roadside stand
In every market in the valley
where the third world people band
And a heart without a purpose
Is like a trawler without a crew
You need some diesel in your coffee every morning
And I love her like a partner
who would reinforce this ruse
As we bounce along the backroads up the hill from
Santa Cruz
When I jumped that train she was still on track
Chasing down some miracle that hasn’t happened yet
We had a simple code they will never crack
Left me banished in the headlands
With this tattoo on my back
It ain’t the money or intuition it ain’t even paying dues
I just landed in these redwoods like the hunted
They got cops in capitola
they got the colors they got the hues
They got those genteel hillside farmers up the road
From Santa Cruz
Rub the magic jewel Cartagena calls
Like a jet trail in the sunset like a ripple in the wall
And the tide she’s cruel but she won’t stay long
There will be fires on the beaches
there will be sailboats in the stalls
From the bus boys in the beachflats
To the mansion’s avenue
Just give it one good tremor and it crumbles
You don’t have to be there
you can watch it on the news
and chill out on the ridge up the road from
Santa Cruz