L.a. Shaker - Cobra Killer

Four corners and a king-sized bed

A china-lamp breaks beside my head

All those fragments on the floor

Who closed that curtain and the balcony-door?

The tiles were made to make me slip

Fitted carpet takes me in sips

I should have known in the early state:

This room was made to liquidate

Arsenic in a four-star-meal

The law doesn’t allow to appeal

Cyanide through the air-condition

L.A. is shaking in its best tradition

I drink acid out of the tab

I carry my face in a plastic-bag

No escape, they owe my fingertip

I’m damned to dance on Sunset Strip

Sidewalk-desserts, automobiles stalk

Lights are orders: walk- don’t walk

Paramount pictures from the suicide hill

The angels came up just to kill

L.A. Shaker on the median-stripes

L.A. Shaker on a video-tape

L.A. Shaker in a sushi-bar

L.A. Shaker with his shades on the beach