Los Angeles

They paved my soul and set it in concrete;

They laid it out for all to see in LA's streets.

Something is burning inside of me; heat, smog, fame, ambition;

She is my love that's transcended time and condition.

Its flowers are neon, its water is chlorine;

The sun and the stars are Angelenos, seen and unseen.

The land of dreams, where everything's a possibility;

And reality is often stranger than any fantasy.

Los Angeles is my heart, my muse;

My home, my world, where I refuse to lose.

History lingers in the faded movie theaters;

Mystery and legend in the canyons and the deserts.

The palm trees sway to the beat of the city;

The city of angels, where dreams can be gritty.

The streets are alive, the people are diverse;

In this sprawling metropolis, where anything can occur.

Find and seek the meaning,

In LA, where it's never too demeaning.

Los Angeles,

Los Angeles...

The city of stars, where fame and fortune collide;

A place where dreams come true or go to die.

Sunsets over the ocean, and smog-filled skies;

The city that never sleeps, where anything goes and nothing surprises.

The Hollywood sign, a beacon for dreamers;

The Sunset Strip, where music and glamour gleamers.

Santa Monica, where the beach meets the pier;

Echo Park, where the hipsters come to cheer.

The traffic is a monster, the freeways a maze;

But the city's heartbeat is felt in its endless craze.

A city of contradictions, where dreams and nightmares mix;

And the beauty and the ugly merge in a heady fix.

Los Angeles, where the nights are wild;

A city that can drive you crazy or make you smile.

The city of angels, where anything is possible;

And where dreams and reality are often indistinguishable.

The night smells of jasmine and exhaust fumes;

The city of contrasts, where the daring and the doomed.

Los Angeles,

Los Angeles...