The plastic peaches there
On concrete beaches there
You see the leeches there
You see the leeches there
It's soft marshmallow there
It's oh so shallow there
In Dead Loss Angeles
In Dead Loss Angeles
The dredged up mastodon
Has got his glasses on
He's never seen the shit
From the La Brea Pit
The lunar base camp there
With burning midnight lamp
They call it Frisbeeland
It's just a disneyland
Android Americans
Live in the ruins there
In Dead Loss Angeles
In Dead Loss Angeles
The dredged up mastodon
Has got his glasses on
He's never seen the shit
From the La Brea Pit
They get the tremors there
Been given babylon
Plenty of companies
Such lonely company
I hear a symphony
Of lonely timpani
In Dead Loss Angeles
In Dead Loss Angeles
The dredged up mastodon
Has got his glasses on
He's never seen the shit
From the La Brea Pit
Writer(s): Hugh Alan Cornwell, Brian John Duffy, David Greenfield, Jean Jacques Burnel
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