You were born in 67 about nine o'clock at night
couple of years before I lost control and ended up inside

The clouds in Camarillo
Shimmer with the lights that's so unreal
Now I fear the stories that they told me
Of how I hurt my baby, might be somehow [bad word] 
I stopped taking all my pills, they made me feel so dead inside
Just like the sun was going out, I didn't think I could survive

The clouds in Camarillo

Now I'm writing from the caravan behind your grandma's place
I think my spirit will be happier with the stars in outer space