| When it’s grey in L.A. I sure like it that way
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| 'Cause there’s way too much sunshine around here
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| I don’t know about you, I get so sick of blue skies
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| Wherever they always appear
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| And I sure love the sound of the rain pouring down
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| On my carport roof made out of tin
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| If there’s a flood, then there’s gonna be mudslides
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| We all have to pay for our sin
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| And I suppose that they’ll close canyon roads
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| And the freeways will all start to clog
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| And the waters will rise and you won’t be surprised
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| When your whole house smells like your wet dog
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| When it’s grey in L.A. it’s much better that way
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| It reminds you that this town’s so cruel
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| Yeah, it might feel like fun when you’re sporting sunglasses
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| But really you’re just one more fool
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| And I’m just a chump and this whole town’s a dump
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| We came out here to dump all our dreams
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| Of making it big but we’re stuck in a singular nightmare
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| That’s just how it seems
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| And I suppose Laurie David sure knows
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| All those cars we drive heat up our earth
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| And sea temperatures rise and those constant blue skies
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| And brush fires can sure curb your mirth
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| Brad Grey’s in L.A. yeah okay I should stay here
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| There’s no place that’s better I know
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| For a wannabe star stuck in a car
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| On a freeway with nowhere to go
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| When it’s grey in L.A. I sure like it that way
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| 'Cause there’s way too much sunshine around here
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| I don’t know about you, I get so sick of blue skies
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| Wherever they always appear |