The geography of growing up   As if isolation's not enough   Just try to organize and rise above it   Then you'll find out what it's all about   This is not my community   This is not what I represent   Participation's breathing down my neck   There's no way I'm giving in   But still you're stuck living in ...   Ramona   Where there's nothing more than meets the eye   A peaceful lie for vat-grown teenage alcoholics   Unchallenged by adversity   Disjoint from history   And pinned down by boredom   In lowered trucks and concert shirts   It's a great place for children and pets   It's a rural cage with no need for walls   The blind youth crawl insanely towards the nets   In search of identity   They're already condemned to   Poorly planned pregnancies and vocations   But you know what   They don't want   (Welcome to Del Taco, may I take your order?)   All the politics of growing up   As if coping with it ain't enough   You try to organize and rise above it   Because you found out what it's all about (bullsh ...)   This is not my community   This is not what I represent   Participation's breathing down my neck   There's no way I'm giving in   But still you're stuck living in ...   Moraga   It won't let things change   An upper-crust fairy tale for the popular and decent kids   Ignorant of reality   Handed everything from hatred to their G.T.I.   Ganja, kegs and football games   With the cops there to keep out all minorities   A quiet fraud buried in the hills   Where schooling means exclusivity, intolerance and hypocrisy   And the sad thing is   You better get used to it   Because high school, it never ends   Welcome to the system   (You got a problem with me?)   This is not our community   This is not what we represent   Participation ain't where it's at   There's no way we're giving in   Yet still we're stuck living in   R.A.M.O.N.A. M.O.R.A.G.A.   R.A.M.O.N.A. M.O.R.A.G.A.   (Hey, where're ya from?)