[ziggytrix]

Originally Posted by The Decemberists

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 fallow fount
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 my love


Oh what a rush of ripe élan
Languor on divans
Dalliant and dainty

But oh, the smell of burnt cocaine
The dolor 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