“L.A. is Pretty (but it’s killin’ me)”

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L.A. is pretty, but it’s killin’ me

Your pictures are perfect in the magazine

 

So get off my back

Give me one second to breathe

A moment to think

 

I’m dried up right now

But I’d kill for a drink

You’re pretty, but you’re killin’ me

 

I thought you was special, until you drank me dry

I called you for help, but you wouldn’t reply

 

And I guess that was that

Guess that you found someone different

More special than me

 

Now I’m kickin’ these Converse down Sycamore Street

L.A. you drank me dry

 

Dear Mom I miss you. I think that I’m comin’ home

So many faces and I’m all alone

 

So what you think about that

That Midwest is goddamn impressive

So good to me

Now I’m missin' them seasons

The Fall and the leaves

I miss you and I’m comin’ home

Yeah I’m missin’ them seasons

The Fall and the leaves

I miss you and I’m comin’ home