Murray Head Los Angeles

Leave my passport, and deposit,
With the man behind a desk,
In a motel on some old boulevard
Where the view deserves a rest.

Try the phone just one more time,
Answering service comes on the line.
Will my credentials give me a start,
Will they warm somebody's heart ?
Or if I make a sudden movement
Is it all gonna crack wide apart ?
All they ask is my name, will I call back again?

Ooh Los Angeles and your ivy-mantled lawns
Ooh Los Angeles and your candy coated homes

In this smoothest saccharine city
Where there's the sun to say there's a shine.
Is it roasting turkeys slowly,
On a never ending line.
Or blinding ultimatums
While they buy themselves more time

Los Angeles
In the end do your prisoners fail ?
Los Angeles
How your guardian angels wail !
Los Angeles
How does your garden grow?
Old gold, Los Angeles
Your wrinkles barely show.