[Los Angeles, I'm Yours]
There is a city by the sea
A gentle company
I don't suppose you want to...
And as it tells its sorry tale
In harrowing detail
Its hollowness will haunt you...
Its streets and boulevards
Orphans and oligarchs, it hears
A plaintive melody
Truncated symphony
An ocean's garbled vomit on the shore...
Los Angeles, I'm yours
Oh ladies, pleasant and demure
Sallow-cheeked and sure
I can see your undies
And all the boys you drag about
An empty fellow found
From Saturdays to Mondays
You hill and valley crowd
Hanging your trousers down at heel!
This is the realest thing
As ancient choirs sing
A dozen blushing cherubs wheel above
Los Angeles, I love
Oh what a rush of ripe e'lan
Languor on divans
Dalliant and dainty
But oh, the smell of burnt cocaine
The dolour and decay
It only makes me cranky...
Oh great calamity
Ditch of iniquity and tears
How I abhor this place
Its sweet and bitter taste
Has left me wretched, retching on all fours...
Los Angeles, I'm yours
--
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