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Pack up all your dishes. |
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Make note of all good wishes. |
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Say goodbye to the landlord for me. |
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That son of a bitch has always bored me. |
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Throw out them LA papers |
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And that moldy box of vanilla wafers. |
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Adios to all this concrete. |
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Gonna get me some dirt road back street |
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If I can just get off of this LA freeway |
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Without getting killed or caught |
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I'd be down that road in a cloud of smoke |
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For some land that I ain't bought bought bought |
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Here's to you old skinny Dennis |
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Only one I think I will miss |
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I can hear that old bass singing |
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Sweet and low like a gift you're bringing |
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Play it for me just one more time now |
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Got to give it all we can now |
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I believe everything your saying |
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Just keep on, keep on playing |
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If I can just get off of this LA freeway |
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Without getting killed or caught |
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I'd be down that road in a cloud of smoke |
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For some land that I ain't bought bought bought |
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And you put the pink card in the mailbox |
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Leave the key in the old front door lock |
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They will find it likely as not |
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I'm sure there's something we have forgot |
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Oh Susanna, don't you cry, babe |
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Love's a gift that's surely handmade |
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We've got something to believe in |
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Don't you think it's time we're leaving |
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If I can just get off of this LA freeway |
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Without getting killed or caught |
|
I'd be down that road in a cloud of smoke |
|
For some land that I ain't bought bought bought. |
|
Pack up all your dishes. |
|
Make note of all good wishes. |
|
Say goodbye to the landlord for me. |
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That son of a bitch has always bored me. |
