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A Postcard From the City of Angels
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The Night Game
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I’m trying to quit, I’m trying to leave it all behind It'll be better for my skin out of the sunshine I don't give a sh*t, about the flashes in the pan I already put in one long shift living the good life Well I’m giving up On valet, on pressed juice and health food I’m giving up On Soho house, rooftops and hair glue I’m giving up On fast friends in big stupid hats And I'm giving up On the head shops and laundry mats lining The endless strip of mini malls That drop off in the sea And it’s Halloween on Christmas day In the land of make believe And there’s cocaine in my coffee cup I'm stuck here in my car And the miles and miles of streetlight rows Are drowning out the stars And I've been looking for a reason to get gone And go put on my winter jacket and move on I think it's time for something better than this I think it's time I got the hell out of Los Angeles
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