Los Angeles Times

You will be known, you will be loved

Raise a glass of hope
Raise a glass of liberty and a glass of something else
May we be at ease with ourselves
To Los Angeles Times
To all the star-free nights and the sweet sunshine
May we be at ease with ourselves

And then I saw you
Through the faux-serene
The 'night like a room'
Can't take my eyes off you
I've forgotten who it is we were drinking to?

'To the artist!'
He was born and raised and moved away
And lost contact with his life
In the Los Angeles Times
He says, 'I wanna be known as a guy who gives a shit
Who has contact with his life'

Can't take my eyes off you
Between the walls, 'under the roof'
And then I saw you
To the deep serene
Under the uncluttered moon

You will be known, you will be loved

And may I feel no worse
May they be more than conquerers

Na na na na na na
Blah blah blah, etcetera