Out of L.A.

Out Of L.A. ********* This town's gotta shake down to its roots I don't know if that's the sands or the tropical fruits I don't believe all the things I see But I'm still betting on you and me Hey, hey baby, we've gotta get out of L.A. Hey, hey baby, we've gotta get out of L.A. I met a girl who looked like a movie star She was going for a ride and I don't mean in a car Had a brain about the size of a frozen pea And on a scale of one to ten she was twenty-three Hey, hey baby, we've gotta get out of LA Hey, hey baby, we've gotta get out of LA A big fat man's gonna make me a king He got a see-through tan and a pinky diamond ring (yeah) Slicked-back hair, shirt to his thigh Import silk slave labor dyed Hey, hey baby, we've gotta get out of L.A. Hey, hey baby, we've gotta get out of L.A. Hey, hey baby, we've gotta go get out of L.A. Hey, hey baby, we've gotta get out of L.A. The boy whores sell their souls on the boulevard And that's a shirt-free store where they don't take a credit card From the hills to the chills its a quick fall down It's a great big city, it's a real small town Hey, hey baby, we've gotta get out of L, A. Hey, hey baby, we've gotta get out of L.A. Hey, hey baby, we've gotta go get out of L.A. Hey, hey baby, we've gotta go ...