Out of L. a. — текст песни (Jude)

This towns got to shake down to its roots

I dont know if thats the sands or the tropical fruits

I dont believe all the things I see

But Im still betting on you and me



Chorus:

Hey, hey baby, weve gotta get out of l.a.

Hey, hey baby, weve gotta get out of l.a.



I met a girl who looked like a movie star

She was going for a ride and I dont mean in a car

Had a brain about the size of a frozen pea

And on a scale of one to ten she was twenty-three



A big fat mans gonna make me a king

Hes got a see-through tan and a pinky diamond ring

Slicked-back hair shirt to his thigh

Import silk slave labor dyed



Hey, hey baby, weve gotta get out of l.a.

Hey, hey baby, weve gotta get out of l.a.

Hey, hey baby, weve gotta go get out of l.a.

Hey, hey baby, weve gotta get out of l.a.



The boy whores sell their souls on the boulevard

And thats a shirt-free store where they dont take a credit card

From the hills to the chills its a quick fall down

Its a great big city, its a real small town



Hey, hey baby, weve gotta get out of l.a.

Hey, hey baby, weve gotta get out of l.a.

Hey, hey baby, weve gotta go get out of l.a.

Hey, hey baby, weve gotta go. . .