| The sun’s rising above the mountains
|
| People on the bus and we’re bouncing
|
| From Oakland to LA, the nightway
|
| Searching for an enlightened mind state
|
| Spend our whole lives trying to get them straight
|
| Dollar dollar bills
|
| It’s more than paying bills
|
| Do as thou will
|
| That’s the luckiest kind
|
| Wine busted open in my bag
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| Spilled everywhere, people are so mad
|
| Morning time in LA is such a wonderful sad
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| So many of us
|
| As we gathered our bags
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| Close
|
| Heading to LA on hope
|
| Close
|
| Heading to LA on hope
|
| She was crying in the abortion clinic
|
| Her pimp’s name was British
|
| He was a mean son of a bitch
|
| Who always hated tennis
|
| The rackets, the courts, the scoring
|
| The time honored tradition
|
| I sat next to her and told her I would listen
|
| «What are you, a superman?
|
| An ex-marine hero?»
|
| Stepped outside
|
| Pimp
|
| And a man that’s new here
|
| Just trying to be a gentlemen
|
| Do better than last year
|
| We will
|
| Livin' in LA on hope
|
| We’re close
|
| Ah ah
|
| Erotic city
|
| Erotic city
|
| Erotic city
|
| Spend our whole lives
|
| Trying to get them straight
|
| Erotic city
|
| Ah ah ah
|
| Erotic City |