Hannah Cohen California
California's calling, and it's hard to let her go
From the hills, you hear them whisper
“Baby, please come home, home.”
Your skin was always golden brown and now your cheeks have turned pale
Your hands smell like the ocean and now nothing can compare, compare oh
California's calling and she wants you to come home
So if you think you can go back
Be sure not to let her know
Her breath is tighter than you think
She'll never let you go, go
Let you go, go
Oh California's calling and she wants you to come home
Yeah, she misses you ‘cos you were free
And now you left her out in the cold, cold
Left her in the cold, cold
