2, 3
Just another bunch of torn-down college graduates.
Trying to find a place to sit down for a while.
Too pumped up to fake it, too belligerent to take it, sitting down, early town.
Just another bunch of would be desperadoes.
Failing to pace themselves against the grain.
Strung out on semantics, Holiday-Inn vigilantes, late night, early town.
Oh Los Angeles, how do you sleep.
You seem so full of cocaine and self belief.
If I could get me some, I'd take it and I'd run.
Oh but it's just another late night, early town.
La, la, la, la, la.
Is it too late, to be postmodern lovers.
Is it too late, to straighten out the show.
The sky is turning gray, and now the after-party fades, we're coming down, on an early town.
Oh Los Angeles, how do you sleep.
You seem so full of cocaine and self belief.
If I could get me some, I'd take it and I'd run.
Oh but it's just another late night, early town.
Late night, early town.
Am I supposed to sleep, here all alone.
'Neath the shadow of the mini-bar, with the promise of a spectra-vision girl.
A spectra-vision girl,
A spectra-vision girl,
A spectra-vision girl,
A spectra-vision girl,
A spectra-vision girl,
Ah those spectra-vision girls.