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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