Joe Firstman - After Los Angeles

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I got a hair cut, a dress shirt

A St. Paulie's girl

But I don't need any of that



I got a number on a napkin

A soup can to sing through

A tune in its worst mood



I got a temper like a fistfight

And a tab after midnight

And a right fast woman



And there'll be hell to pay

After Los Angeles

And you won't believe

What I've seen



This town is a workshop

For wordsmiths and grifters

And misters and misses

And cheeks full of kisses



And all of you bidders

Can't wait till I'm bitter

I've got a fever

Like the boulevard summer

And a right fast woman



And there'll be hell to pay

After Los Angeles

And you won't believe

What I've seen



Bury me beside you when I die

When I'm dead and gone

Mama, sing me to sleep while you weep

But don't weep at all



'Cause there'll be hell to pay

After Los Angeles

And you all won't believe

What I've seen



And there'll be hell to pay

After Los Angeles

And I'm just another fool along the scene



You can find me in the back

And if you don't fucking care

Then why did you ask?



You can find me in the back

And if you don't fucking care

Then why did you ask?



You can find me well, in the back

And if you don't fucking care

Then why did you ask?

Why did you ask? Why did you ask?

Why did you ask? Why did you ask?

© WIVES TALE PUBLISHING; CAREERS-BMG MUSIC PUBLISHING INC;




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