The Decemberists
The Decemberists
The Decemberists
The Decemberists
The Decemberists
The Decemberists
The Decemberists
The Decemberists
The Decemberists
The Decemberists
The Decemberists
[Verse 1]
There is a city by the sea, a gentle company
I don't suppose you want to
And as it tells its sorry tale in harrowing detail
Its hollowness will haunt you
[Chorus 1]
Its streets and boulevards, orphans and oligarchs it hears
A plaintive melody, truncated symphony
An ocean's garbled vomit on the shore
Los Angeles, I'm yours
[Verse 2]
Oh ladies pleasant and demure, sallow-cheeked and sure
I can see your undies
And all the boys you drag about, an empty fallow fount
From Saturdays to Mondays
[Chorus 2]
You hill and valley crowd, hanging your trousers down at heel
This is the realest thing, as ancient choirs sing
A dozen blushing cherubs wheel above
Los Angeles, my love
[Verse 3]
Oh what a rush of ripe élan, languor on divans
Dalliant and dainty
But oh, the smell of burnt cocaine, the dolor and decay
It only makes me cranky
[Chorus 3]
Oh great calamity, ditch of iniquity and tears
How I abhor this place, its sweet and bitter taste
Has left me wretched, retching on all fours
Los Angeles, I'm yours
Los Angeles, I’m Yours was written by Colin Meloy.
Los Angeles, I’m Yours was produced by The Decemberists & Adam Selzer & Larry Crane.
The Decemberists released Los Angeles, I’m Yours on Tue Sep 09 2003.