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And A Song For Los Angeles Lyrics


She Wants Revenge And A Song For Los Angeles


Somber southern the streets are cold eyes, watching
ahead of them. With no good reason and not break down
she sighs, and stares at the overpass. Full of other
reasons she's leaving town she swears, that it will be
better then. If only she could see it'll follow her
always, and then it's suddenly overpass.

Love your troubled ways, we can make them all mine!
Santa Ana's blow our stories 'cross the sky line. Of a
city that the angels found it fit to name. Against the
black shine, a million little white lights! Afraid to
merge, so we hide behind late night's. Still the voices
cry, "Lover, it will be alright!"

Phil-lion city of privilege make believe until it
becomes true. Following in traces of someone else's
lies. But it doesn't become you. She said,” it's
nothing filming yet,” and her body it seems to agree.
As I vow to the stars on the sidewalk, though I don't
know what you hope to see.

Love your troubled ways, we can make them all mine!
Santa Ana's blow our stories 'cross the sky line. Of a
city that the angels found it fit to name. Against the
black shine, a million little white lights! Afraid to
merge, so we hide behind late night's. Still the voices
cry, "Lover, it will be alright!"

She misses the seasons, and stay at home nights. Now
you should have seen her bathed in sunset red lights.
Please tell her,” I love her.” But the city won't
change. It's cold and unflinching. Ever loving &
strange.

Love your troubled ways, we can make them all mine!
Santa Ana's blow our stories 'cross the sky line. Of a
city that the angels found it fit to name. Against the
black shine, a million little white lights! Afraid to
merge, so we hide behind late night's. Still the voices
cry, "Lover, it will be alright!"
Love your troubled ways, we can make them all mine!
Santa Ana's blow our stories 'cross the sky line. Of a
city that the angels found it fit to name. Against the
black shine, a million little white lights! Afraid to
merge, so we hide behind late night's. Still the voices
cry, "Lover, it will be alright!"



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