Anthrolyricology - C'est L.A. Vie

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That's how it goes (c'est la vie, c'est la vie)
That's how it goes (BKP, BKP)

Inhabiting a space where the sky does fall
Inhabiting a space where the spiders crawl
Inheriting no space we can't stand up tall
Inheriting a race we can't win at all, That's how it goes
Circling the drain, following the flow, waiting on a call (c'est la vie, c'est la vie)
That's how it goes, (c'est la vie, c'est la vie)
Cursing in the rain, swallowing our pain, writing on the wall (c'est la vie, c'est la vie)
That's how it goes (c'est la vie, c'est la vie)

Call me the seeker. Mining for gold, yelling "Eureka!!"
Speakers don't ever pop. Demeanor as clean as beakers
In a lab. Doing research, trying to be a teacher
The craft could freeze a moment, so notice my Mona Lisa
This is home. I feel it, when I'm away from it
I'll never travel far, unless I'm getting paid hundreds
You think we some hippies. You tell them all is good
But when you visit, it's only Venice and Hollywood
My map swallows your atlas, without attempting to
Destitute and wealthy. They neighbors, but one is getting screwed
You could tell where it begins and where it ends
So don't ever cross over to try to make you a friend
It's the reality accepted with the calm breeze
Sunny skies. Looking at crowded beaches and palm trees
You could take all the plastic and melt it all, PLEASE
The face of a facet that speaks of tall dreams

Inhabiting a space where the sky does fall
Inhabiting a space where the spiders crawl
Inheriting no space we can't stand up tall
Inheriting a race we can't win at all, That's how it goes
Circling the drain, following the flow, waiting on a call (c'est la vie, c'est la vie)
That's how it goes, (c'est la vie, c'est la vie)
Cursing in the rain, swallowing our pain, writing on the wall (c'est la vie, c'est la vie)
That's how it goes (c'est la vie, c'est la vie)

Call me the bastard, of first generation gentrification
Grew up on the avenues, where Avenues stay on probation
Neighbors disregarding, all the issues that you're facing
Molotov's in your garden, garage sprayed with gang paintings
Abortion clinics overflowing patients, lining Figueroa
Every other adult drunk, or blown off baking soda
Roadkill chihuahuas, that probably never had an owner
Cops catch you homeless, one-way ticket to Dakota
You could call up a reporter, but the crime here isn't news
You could call up a deporter, but the immigrants are Jews
Another middle class family priced out of suburbia
Evicting the residents, Andale, let's hurry up
Babysitters, housekeepers, little Christian kids in uniform
Underpaid teachers, now public schools are not the norm
A bunch of cafes replacing the Taquerias
We a little salty, they watered down our margaritas

C'est la vie, c'est la vie
C'est la vie, c'est la vie
C'est la vie, c'est la vie
C'est la vie, c'est la vie

Written by:
Erik Menendez, Jack Mabie

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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