| Well, I pulled off the gravel, with my California dreams
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| Leavin' everything I ever loved behind
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| Well, I left Alabama, but it never once left me
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| And it’s still the only refuge in my mind
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| 'Cause where you gonna be when half of California riots?
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| Where you gonna run to when the lights go out?
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| Well, I won’t be hangin' out in California, I won’t try it
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| Buddy, I’ll be up and headed south
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| All the women here look perfect, and it hardly ever rains
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| And for some folks here I’m sure it’s paradise
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| I’ll dabble with the fortune and rub elbows with the fame
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| But I’ll be damned if this is where I’m gonna die
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| Hey, where you gonna be when half of California riots?
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| Where you gonna run to when the lights go out?
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| Well, I won’t be hangin' out in California, I won’t try it
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| Buddy, I’ll be up and headed south
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| First ticket out
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| I’m goin' down to L. A
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| I never thought I’d get to see the inside of a limousine
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| Or a beauty shop on South Rodeo drive
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| Or bein' sucked into a world where things are seldom what they seem
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| Makes you wonder how you’ll make it out alive
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| And where you gonna be when half of California riots?
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| Where you gonna run to when the lights go out?
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| Well, I won’t be hangin' out in California, I won’t try it
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| Buddy, I’ll be up and headed south
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| Oh, buddy, I’ll be up and headed south |