L. A. Freeway - Guy Clark

Pack up all the dishes

Make note of all good wishes

Say goodbye to the landlord for me

Sons-a-bitches always bore me

And throw out all those L.A. papers

And the moldy box of Vanilla Wafers

Adios to all this concrete

Gonna get me some dirt road back streets

If I can just get off of this L.A. freeway

Without getting killed or caught

I’ll be down the road in a cloud of smoke

To some land I ain’t bought bought bought

And it’s scales to you old Skinny Dennis

Only one I think I will miss

I can hear that old bass singing

Sweet and low like a gift your bringing

Play it for me one more time now

Got to give it all we can now

I believe every thing you’re saying

Just to keep on keeping on, keep on playing

If I can just get off of this L.A. freeway

Without getting killed or caught

I’ll be down the road in a cloud of smoke

To some land I ain’t bought bought bought

And you put the pink card in the mailbox

Leave the key in the front door lock

They’ll find it likely as not

I’m sure there’s something we have forgot

Oh Susanna, don’t you cry babe

Love’s a gift that’s surely handmade

We got something to believe in

Don’t you think it’s time we were leavin?

If I can just get off of this L.A. freeway

Without getting killed or caught

I’ll be down the road in a cloud of smoke

To some land I ain’t bought bought bought

If I can just get off this L.A. freeway

Without getting killed or caught

Down the road in a cloud of smoke

To some land I ain’t bought

So pack up all your dishes

Make note of all good wishes

Say goodbye to the landlord for me

Sons-a-bitches always bore