Out Of L.A. — текст песни (Jude)

This town`s got to shake down to its roots
I don`t know if that`s the sands or the tropical fruits
I don`t believe all the things I see
But I`m still betting on you and me

Chorus:
Hey, hey baby, we`ve gotta get out of L.A.
Hey, hey baby, we`ve gotta get out of L.A.

I met a girl who looked like a movie star
She was going for a ride and I don`t 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 man`s gonna make me a king
He`s 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, we`ve gotta get out of L.A.
Hey, hey baby, we`ve gotta get out of L.A.
Hey, hey baby, we`ve gotta go get out of L.A.
Hey, hey baby, we`ve gotta get out of L.A.

The boy whores sell their souls on the boulevard
And that`s a shirt-free store where they don`t take a credit card
From the hills to the chills its a quick fall down
It`s a great big city, it`s a real small town

Hey, hey baby, we`ve gotta get out of L.A.
Hey, hey baby, we`ve gotta get out of L.A.
Hey, hey baby, we`ve gotta go get out of L.A.
Hey, hey baby, we`ve gotta go. . .