There's a city by the sea
A gentle company
I don't suppose you want to...
And as it tells its sorry tale
In harrowing detail
Its hollowness will haunt you

Its streets and boulevards
Orphans and oligarchs are here
A plaintive melody
Truncated symphony
An ocean's gargled vomit on the shore

Los Angeles I'm yours

(the decemberists, from her majesty)

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