In Santa Monica  in the winter time 
The lazy streets so undemanding 
I walk into the crowd 
In Santa Monica  you get your coffee from 
The coolest places on the promenade 
Where people dress just so 
Beauty so unavoidable  
everywhere you turn 
It's there 
I sit and wonder what am I doing here? 

But on the telephone line I am anyone 
I am anything I want to be 
I could be a supermodel or Norman Mailer 
And you wouldn't know the difference 
Or would you? 

In Santa Monica, all the people got 
modern names 
Like Jake or Mandy 
And modern bodies too 
In Santa Monica, on the boulevard, 
You'll have to dodge those in-line skaters 
Or they'll knock you down 
I never felt so lonely, 
Never felt so out of place 
I never wanted something more than this 

But on the telephone line I am anyone 
I am anything I want to be 
I could be a supermodel or Norman Mailer 
And you wouldn't know the difference 
On the telephone line, I am any height 
I am any age I want to be 
I could be a caped [bad word]  or 
space invader 
And you would know the difference 
Or would you?