• LA, the city of lost angels
    wings clipped while their flesh dangles
    the dangerous men with scalples and silicone
    are much darker when left alone at home
    they come to meet you with pretty faces
    each one's story has their own disgraces
    the lies are caught in the beeswax covered cheeks
    and to get anywhere may take days or weeks
    appropriate is the metaphor of bees in hives
    because everyone there lives predetermined lives
    the wicked touch of a cold plastic hand
    is a wake up call to this cold plastic land
    because beneath the sun and the sand
    is just another hopeless wash-out band
    pittiful...they hide cancer with make-up
    they tell you false answers so WAKE UP
    so where are your credit cards now
    and where's the directors that you said would bow
    at your feet?and why are you crying?
    i warned you not to bother me if you were dying
    because thats wat goes on in here
    there's no place left for you my dear