Los Angeles, I'm Yours

Album: Her Majesty the Decemberists (2003)
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  • 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 are here
    A plaintive melody
    Truncated symphony
    An ocean's garbled vomit on the shore
    Los Angeles, I'm yours

    O ladies pleasant and demure
    Sallow-cheeked and sure
    I can see your undies

    And all the boys you drag about
    An empty fellow found
    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 'lan
    Languor on divans
    Dalliant and dainty
    But oh, the smell of burnt cocaine
    The dolor and decay
    It only makes me cranky

    O great calamity
    Ditch of iniquity and tears
    How I abhor this place
    Its sweet and bitter taste
    Has left me wretched, wretching on all fours
    Los Angeles I'm yours
    Los Angeles I'm yours
    Los Angeles I'm yours Writer/s: COLIN MELOY
    Publisher: BMG Rights Management
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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