I live on the west side of this country Where houses make sense of homes I live on the best side of this country Where there are still places to roam Where do you want to go? Where can I take you? As the west coast grows fonder of you I live at the foot of Teresa's Hill On the top is my grandmother's home Believe that even since her sad passing With her memory I will never be alone Why does she have to go? Why can't she stay here? All the west coast will be missing her Hope resides in the rain my friend Choose a home Make it better while you can I grew up on fairy tales on the hill But my youth were spent in the park I grew up to learn that memories matter It tightens my grip on reality's spark Why did I want to go when I was safe there? On the west coast where it's beautiful