Waiting For A Hot Pocket

I always feel jealous when I see my friends dead on the news
You think you're just talking but it looks like you're stalking the muse
Your collection of names reflects nothing but necks in your noose
I suppose I respect but I won't genuflect in your pew

What is it I'm doing when reviewing the way babies are made
Sit down, Bloody Mary What angles are left to be played
I was cozy in prison where all my decisions were made
It feels just like lying every time I'm applying me trade
I've been holed up working while the vultures were circling
I'd rather be bold than be paid

Los Angeles makes a nice place to lay down in the shade

I try to get sleep as the boogie men dance on the roof
I'm jaded and bored and a little bit long in the tooth
I feel out of place as I bury my face in the booth
I think I've got something but I don't really have any proof
I'm trying to remember I'm wondering if I ever felt this estranged in my youth

Los Angeles makes a nice place to let go of the truth
Los Angeles makes a nice place to let go of the truth



Credits
Writer(s): Ian Murray
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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