California

Up above the sunny skies in south California There's a wounded rocket flying high, heading homeward It came from a hollow, under a hill And soon there'll be nobody left to kill in California Last night captain Black went dancing at the Whiskey A-Go-Go When a well-known groupie knocked him back, busted his ego Stoned out of his head, he crawled off to bed The following morning he went to the pad The missile was standing pointing to the skies of California The red balloon was flying high, watching the weather Captain Black was trying hard to get it together Immediate names came into his brain A rocket from China, a Russian plane He pushed the wrong button and soon There'll be no place called California.