Ride the black cloud over the west coast
I fell from like Morning Son
You were breathing black clouds laced with the west coast
You got high enough to try to
Find your way out to and out of Los Angeles
Find your way out to and out of Los Angeles
You came to find reigns under the west coast
After hours, in heavy showers of play
Under red waves hoping you might choke
As you knew, well you must hurt to
Find your way out to and out of Los Angeles
Find your way out to and out of Los Angeles
They must not hear what you are about to say
Or we may never gеt away
Come close, whisper, if you arе about to say
“I’ve gotta get out of L.A."
“I’ve gotta get out of L.A."
“I’ve gotta get out of L.A."
“I’ve gotta get out of L.A."
“I’ve gotta get out of L.A."
compositores: David Paden Marchand, Jade Errol Puget, Adam A Carson, Hunter Lawrence Burgan
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